


Haven

by Haikyuuvlb



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Survival, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:45:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 67,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haikyuuvlb/pseuds/Haikyuuvlb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At world's end when raiders and zombies are breathing down your back and everyone you care about is long dead, who can you turn to in order to find your haven. Post-Apocalyptic USUK. Made with Nuclear-taste.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Just by looking at the peaceful landscape one would never be able to tell of the horrors mankind had been dealing with over the past few years. Everything was green and peaceful just as spring should be; it had been a pleasant enough day, wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Just as one would expect from a small town such as the one Alfred approached. If one had not known better they would have thought this town was lucky enough to have been untouched by the terror Mother Nature had thrust upon the people of the land, but Alfred knew better. 

Tony and he were on a scouting mission trying to find food for their dwindling supply at camp the high walls that surrounded camp kept them safe enough, but the threat of starvation forced the few that were brave enough to venture beyond the safety of those walls in search of much needed supplies. Alfred sighed as he glanced down at the pistol in his harness it had belonged to Tony, but his friend wouldn’t be needing it anymore now that he was dead. Alfred had to be the one to pull the trigger Tony had panicked and wasn’t able to do it himself. It was supposed to be an easy scouting mission there had been no reports of those creatures in this area from previous scouting missions, but they weren’t so lucky this time and Tony was bitten.

No one was quiet sure where the strange virus had come from or what it was doing to the planet’s population, but they did know it was very contagious and from Alfred's experience it made those infected act like the zombies of the video games he used to so love before the world had gone to hell. Alfred shook the thoughts from his mind and looked up to see a relatively still in tack market shop, hopefully it had some canned food that could be salvaged and brought back to camp so Alfred wouldn’t come back a total failure. 

Alfred kept his hand on the pistol as he slowly opened the store door wincing as he heard the chime of a bell announcing his presence. After waiting a few moments Alfred felt the coast was clear enough for him to venture further into the store, he slowly made his way around feeling more jumpy than he had since he had returned from the wars in Europe. Everyone had always said there would never be a third world war due to how heavily the countries relied upon each other now. Oh how wrong they were. The memories still haunted him worse than the image of him having to put down his own mother as she tried to kill him due to the infection.

Alfred was jarred out of his thoughts by the sound of some cans knocking over increasing his guard tenfold. He pulled his rifle off his shoulder and removed the safety; slowly he made his way to the source of the noise, his heart pounding in his chest. He relaxed ever so slightly as he heard the sound of near silent cursing emanating from the next aisle over, at least it wasn’t one of the infected they lost their ability to speak along with any semblance of sanity they once held. Still Alfred kept his guard up it could very well be one of the raiders that always stole food from the runners of different camps making people more desperate than they already were for the quickly depleting food sources. 

Alfred took a deep steadying breath before jumping in front of the aisle gun pointed at the person before him. Alfred nearly balked when he saw the petite blonde in front of him. Who in their right mind would send out someone so small for a scouting mission? His guard was soon back up when the other figure held a gun pointed right back at him, a defiant glare stuck on his, admittedly handsome, face. 

“Drop the weapon.” Alfred commanded firmly but gentle enough not to cause the other blonde to feel threatened. “Drop the weapon and I’ll drop mind. Deal?”

~

Arthur, furtively crouched in front of the bottom shelf, rummaged through the canned goods. In his teeth a penlight illuminated the labels in the otherwise pitch black building. Twilight had descended over the barren land, and Arthur had to move fast. Those creatures were especially active at night. 

On the floor next to him was a backpack lying completely unzipped and opened. Arthur made swift work of packing the food stuffs in a precise, militaristic standard that optimized the bag's full storage use. Already tucked in and ready to go were some soda cans the raiders and other scavengers overlooked in the storage freezer. 

When the chime rang as loud as bombs throughout the small co-op, Arthur froze. He was hidden from the front door, but whoever this newcomer was, he had to prepare for the worst. 

He had never been in this situation alone before. In all his life, having been protected by his brothers since the outbreak, Arthur had never had to take another human's life. His brothers, distrusting of his untested aptitude, holed him up at base where he facilitated most of the domestic affairs. While his brothers kept their base secure, going on scouting missions and running for supplies, Arthur farmed the vegetables and made sure the medical supplies his brothers came back to were stocked up and sterile.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut against the burning tears. He hated his brothers. They treating him like a liability, another mouth to feed, even if it was he who grew the food that was on the table. He hated them, but they didn't deserve what happened to them. An organized faction of raiders staged a coup on the nunnery they lived in. They were completely unprepared, and it only took a few hours for them to usurp the building from Arthur and his brothers. Arthur managed to run away. His brothers weren't so lucky. They stayed, refusing to back down and fighting to the last. 

But the raiders didn't kill them. They took his brothers out to the streets in the daytime, chained and crippled them, and then they left them for the night when the undead came out. 

Arthur felt like such a coward. He couldn't even save his own family. Besides your own blood, little else was sacred in this world. Even his brothers, who despised him, never forsake him. 

The man was too caught up in his grief to notice the man come around the corner until he was staring up from the crosshairs of the man's rifle. Arthur took his handgun out too late, but the other didn't seem intent on firing without reason. Still, it irked him when he played negotiator, telling him to drop the gun while his was still pointed between his eyes. 

"...very well," he croaked, having not used his voice in days. He cleared his throat and slowly lowered the gun with measured intent, watching the other with hawkish eyes as he did the same.

“What’s someone like you doing out here anyways? Don’t you have some camp you should be at?” Alfred looked the man over in the near dark building as he slung his gun back on his shoulder, before placing a hand on his pistol in case the man before him tried to pull any stunts. “I haven’t seen a civilian outside the safety of camps since the start of the outbreak.” Alfred took a glance at the handgun by the man’s side and raised an eyebrow in mild interest; it was hardly protection enough against anything but better than nothing Alfred supposed. Weapons had been hard to come by in the last few years and ammunition was quickly running out leaving guns as more of threats than real useful weapons as most didn’t want to waste what little they had left.

"Not my choice." Arthur frowned warily at the gun by Alfred's hand. "I'm taking my pistol back," the Briton warned as he picked it up again and put it away in the back of his pants. Hawkish eyes never wavering from Alfred's pistol hand, Arthur watched the older man unsnap the strap securing the sidearm to the holster and tighten his fingers around the handle, ready to unholster it. Arthur snorted, finding Alfred's caution both absurd and irritating. 

"And what about you? An army man?" He intentionally looked away, going back to his scavenging. He couldn't show fear or weakness to this person, whoever it was. Fearlessness was all Arthur had to show, even if it was a front. This man was obviously more experienced and skilled than he was, and Arthur had no chance in defending himself should the man decide to take all the belongings he had in the world and abandon him. "Nevermind. Poke your nose in the manager's office until I leave."

One glance outside told Alfred he would be rooming there for the night, and, if he had any say in it, so would this civilian. It was far too dangerous to travel at night, not even the raiders dare risk their lives against the cover of darkness far too many foul creatures now lurked there. “I don’t think you’ll be leaving at all. Or have you not noticed that it’s going to be night in about half an hour? Don’t be stupid we’ll stay hidden in the manager’s office till morning then go our separate ways. Deal?”

Arthur froze as he zipped up his bag. The idea of staying made his heart lurch, but he realized this man was right. As dangerous as strangers were--and this soldier was definitely shady-- it was better to camp out and make themselves scarce than return to his hideout and risk those creatures finding him. Arthur trusted the soldier more than the zombies, but only because the soldier had a /choice/ to kill him or not. 

Arthur stood, grunting as he shouldered his heavy pack. "I'm not sharing my food with you," he grumbled as he passed by the man on the way to the manager’s office. 

"Damn it." He rattled the knob. "It's locked."

“Honestly kid nothing is every truly locked.” Alfred huffed as he pulled out a small packed from one of the pockets on his cargo pants. “You just have to have the key.” He opened up the packet revealing a lock pick set; he quickly picked out the tools and bent down in from of the door knob. “Watch my back,” He muttered off handedly as he began to fiddle with the lock. After a few moments the soft click of the door unlocking could be heard, Alfred stood up and put his tools away before taking his rifle back into his hands. “Open the door and quickly get back on the count of three kid.” Alfred ordered as he readied himself for any possible situation that may occur.

As defensive as he was about his inexperience and Alfred's dubious faith in him, he was relieved to know he was with someone who knew what he was doing. He stood on the far side of the doorknob with his back facing the wall. Hand poised on the doorknob, he chanted a quick prayer as Alfred counted down. Right on the mark, Arthur turned the handle and pushed the door back with his forearm. As soon as he opened the door he sidestepped away, giving Alfred clear breadth of the doorway. As Alfred rushed in, Arthur followed behind with his gun at the ready.

Alfred breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the office was, thankfully, empty if one did not count the skeleton in the corner of the room. The only major concern Alfred held about the room was the large square window that shone what little light there was left outside. “Okay we need to work quickly go round up some nails and a hammer I saw some down aisle three I’ll collect as much wood planks as I can find we need to get that window covered up. The undead unfortunately don’t mind glass shards tearing up their hands.” 

Alfred first headed towards the front door of the store locking it which may not be very helpful against the coming creatures but it would give at least a small bit of comfort to know raiders would be less likely to try anything against them come early morning. He was then able to find some plywood to first fully cover the window and he found some sturdier wood planks the brace the window better. He brought a few extra in order to barricade the door in case the creatures managed to get past the lock. Paranoid maybe but Alfred knew simple things like this kept him alive and he wasn’t about to risk the lives of both the civilian and himself.

Arthur bit his tongue and did what he was told. Vaguely, he wondered if he would ever be taken seriously, if he would ever be seen beyond a pair of extra hands assisting the invaluable leaders. He was expendable. He knew that. 

After turning in the hammer and nails, Arthur pulled down the chain-link shutters over the full-length display windows. Unlike shutters, they did shit for hiding but offered them more protection nothing at all. Not for the first time, Arthur considered how the old world's safety precautions depended on humans' limitations. Chain link fences caved easily against the mass force of a zombie hoard, and the undead cared nothing for the barbed wire that tore their unfeeling flesh. Arthur stared at the treacherous sinking sun for a long time before returning to the office.

Alfred had finished bracing the window by the time Arthur had come back into the office; he turned toward the door and swiftly locked it. “Hold up one of those beams for me kid.” He ordered as he grabbed some more nails to secure the wood in place.

"Extra pair of hands indeed," he muttered to himself as he secured the planks while Alfred hammered. Through the cracks between the planks, Arthur could judge that night was descending just in time. Arthur tossed his stuffs into the corner and rummaged through it, procuring a can of peaches and a fork. He popped the top and made himself comfortable huddling against the corner of the office. Besides the obvious advantage of preempting an attack from behind, somehow the pressure felt safe, like a hug from a person. Arthur drank the syrupy juice first, quenching his dying thirst before hurriedly shoveling the food in his mouth, eating as fast as he could in the event of an attack. Every moment, ever single action was in precaution to an attack.

Alfred looked down at his solar powered watch less than ten minutes before total darkness hit at least. They were secure enough in the room for Alfred to finally think of his empty stomach it grumbled back loudly at him. Offhandedly he realized that he should have grabbed some of the food from the store before locking them in. He sighed before taking off his pack and weapons setting them against a wall in the far corner away from the civilian in the corner. “I’m going to get some shut eye for a bit wake me in half an hour.” Alfred told Arthur as he lay down using his body to guard his weapons in case the kid tried to pull something.

Arthur lowered the can after catching the very last drop of syrupy water. Putting it aside he sighed pleasantly, feeling more or less contented with his hunger and thirst levels. He didn't look at the ex-soldier when he replied. "Hm. Sure." That meant Arthur was on watch for the while. The young man had not slept for 20-odd hours, but he was so pumped with restless fear and adrenaline that he couldn't sleep even if he tried. It wasn't lost on him that the ex-soldier was sheltering his firearm away from him. His own pistol was at his side, safety off and ready to go. Arthur watched the man while he slept, idly wondering why he was alone and if his faction was still alive. Arthur learned early on that there was safety in numbers. Without exception, every member was integral to the group, but every member's weakness was the group's weakness. 

Arthur huddled closer to the wall and rested his forehead against it. He was alone. He knew what happened to loners in this urban wasteland. It meant no one was at your back, but zombies were the least of Arthur's concerns. Loners were looted, set up as bait, and assaulted. Sometimes murdered for their meat, Arthur heard, in the scarcer regions where food was hard to come by. 

If this ex-soldier was one of those depraved scavengers who preyed on the weak, Arthur wasn't going down without a fight. "Oi. Wake the fuck up. It's been an hour." Arthur tossed the empty aluminum can, and when it crashed to the ground next to the soldier it started him awake.

Alfred jumped awake and grabbed, armed, and pointed his pistol at the source that had so rudely awoke him. As he slowly woke up he realized the kid across from him posed as much threat as a scared cat and he lowered his gun. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands he spoke, “Christ kid. Hasn’t anyone taught you not to wake an armed man like that?” He looked up at the shocked and rather spooked young man in front of him. “You’re gonna get yourself shot one day if you keep doing that. Seriously if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’ve been without human contact for a couple of years, but if that were the case you’d probably be dead instead of here.”

Once he recovered from the shock of having a gun pointed to his head, the familiar anger and frustration that had been surfacing for years returned. He was grateful for it. Anger was something to focus on and it gave him courage even when everything seemed hopeless. 

"I'm not a kid, asshole. I'm nearly your age." It wasn't his fault he had no field experience. "Wankers like you would be dead if it weren't for people like me."

“And who exactly are people like you?” Alfred found this kid’s reactions amusing to say the least. Everything was so clearly displayed on his face or perhaps that was his eyebrows over accentuating every facial movement. “And on the other point act like a kid get treated like a kid. Simple logic.”

"By whose criterion? Yours?" Arthur scoffed incredulously. "I hate people like you. Think you're better than everyone else because you can point a gun in the right direction. What about the people who feed you? Fix your clothes? Dress your wounds?" Arthur could have spit in his face if he knew he could make it across the room. Alfred's condescension was painting a picture too reminisce of his brothers' contempt for him. "Just shut your trap and let me sleep." Arthur ripped his blanket from his bag and roughly tucked it around himself. He curled up in a ball against the wall to conserve warmth, deliberately facing away from Alfred as if to say he wasn't intimidated by whatever Alfred was thinking of doing. And he figured whatever it was, was something he'd doubtlessly suffer from.

Alfred watched as the man in the corner “slept” he tried to hold back a laugh when it became obvious after twenty minutes of fidgeting that the poor guy couldn’t sleep. “So how’s that sleeping business going for ya?” he chuckled. “Need a bedtime story? Or maybe a lullaby?” He lightly teased a soft smile on his face.

"Is this how you cope with PTSD?" he growled while glaring at the wall. He didn't see the smile softening the mockery. When the soldier laughed he just shook his head and tucked his blanket farther up his shoulder. "Just leave me alone, would you? I have a lot of ground to cover in the morning, and I plan to make it to Middleton hospital in three days." Arthur heard over radio transmission that they were still taking in refugees. That was last month. There had been no word from them since, but there was nowhere else to Arthur's knowledge that still took in people.

“Just there last week kid. I lost my best friend to the hospital director. It’s probably not the safest place for a loner like you.” Alfred informed acting much too cool for someone who just lost a dear friend. “Anyways the best place for you to try is a major shelter. There’s three here in the States, the nearest one is a two week walk away. That’s where I’m headed if you wanna join me. I’d appreciate the company.”

Arthur took in the news quietly. He wasn't surprised; in fact, he didn't feel very much at all. The young man was vaguely curious as to why he wasn't as upset as he thought he should be.

He shifted fitfully, torn on Alfred's offer. His pride screamed at him to tell him to fuck off. On the other hand, he reasoned that it was only two weeks, and how much was two weeks to the rest of his life? Assuming he'd live to a decent age. There was one thing that bothered him, though. "You're rather unconcerned about your friend." He said it offhandedly, but it gave away far more to his true thoughts: how much did Alfred care about his companions? Did he leave them the moment they became a liability, or did he go through whatever lengths he could to help them? 

Just as Alfred was about to reply, the crashing sound of metal splintered in their ears. A zombie had thrown itself against the security gate barring the windows and began rattling it. Enticed by the noise, and perhaps a lingering notion of fellowship from their past life, the zombies in the area turned towards the store and mindlessly shuffled towards it. They clustered together and began to shake the bars in imitation. The rest that could not reach smothered against the ones in the front. Arthur could hear them crowding together and pressing against the bars that groaned under the force of their weight. The bars began to give way, and it wouldn't be long under the bars snapped and the glass behind it shattered.

“Well it seems that we have two choices.” Alfred began as he stood up and began to put his gear on again. “We can either go out with a bang, or we can wait here until they manage to break through and kill us. At least the first option as a partial chance of survival.” He added with a wink. He checked his watch once more, 6 more hours until sunrise. He sighed and shook his head; he had lived through worse with more than just a civilian to drag him down. “How good are you at climbing trees?”

Arthur was already scrambling to pack his things. He spared half an ear to the soldier, but the last part gave him pause. "Trees?" He whipped his head back and looked at him like he was half mad. "Well, I can. I guess." He did basic maintenance to the building's structure, and that included climbing to get to the places he needed to be. He shucked his backpack on evenly to balance the weight on his back. "Let's go."

“I really hope you have a strong stomach kid.” Alfred said as he walked up to the boarded up window. He reached back pulling a crow bar out of his pack and used it to pry the protective covering off the window. “Cause you’re gonna need it.” With a few swift pops the wood came off leaving a thin sheet of glass between them and the creatures outside. 

“Stay close if you want to live and don’t question anything I say until you see the sun come up over the horizon and the dead slowly return to their hiding spots.” Alfred reached into his cargo pants pocket and produced a grenade. He silently grumbled about using his second to last explosive before he slammed a piece of wood that still had nails in it against the glass shattering it. The loud noise and suddenly obvious smell of human quickly attracted the attention of the creatures. Alfred pulled the pin on the grenade and held it for a moment before tossing it at the slowly advancing hoard. Limbs flew everywhere and Alfred quickly shouted for the other to follow him. He took off down the street his rifle at the ready for whatever came his way.

Arthur held his pistol at the ready with its muzzle pointed towards the ground. Adrenaline spiked his nerves, and when the ex-soldier smashed out the window the civilian almost bolted. The grueling faces of the undead in all states of decay crept into the window view, and just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, the man pulled out a grenade. As Alfred tossed it outside, Arthur immediately fell to his knees and held the back of his neck and head in his hands. The blast was deafening. The walls rumbled, and asbestos blanketed the room with white powder. It overwhelmed his vision, and he barely caught the ex-soldier vault the window and take off the down the street. 

Arthur staggered to his feet and clumsily walked to the window. No choice but to brave the glass shards on the windowsill. Arthur used his left hand to brace himself as he hopped over the waist-high window. He almost tripped over the limbs and gore leftover from the grenade bomb, and just as he was about to clear the blast zone, a wretched hand reached out and clutched his ankle. 

Arthur fell heavily, and the zombie used its leverage on the man to pull itself up his body. Arthur choked back a scream and wrestled it back. "God-- damn--" Splinters of glass crushed into his skin as he desperately forced the zombie's head away. It was relentless. After raging the zombie back for what felt like eternity, fear of death gave way to exhaustion. "I won't die," he sobbed bitterly, but his struggling began to slow and weaken.

A gunshot sounded and the zombie fell limp away from Arthur. “Jesus kid, I just told you to stay close! Get your ass in gear and let’s go!” Alfred grabbed hold of Arthur's hand and pulled him along ignoring the choked sobs coming from behind him in favor of survival. They were lucky that most of the infected had seemed to gather around the store rather than disperse throughout town. Alfred quickly made his way towards the forest on the edges of town even going as far as to take a longer route if it meant avoiding an infected. It was difficult to maneuver safely with only the light of the moon to guide them, but soon they made it to the forest.

Alfred stopped in front of a large tree and let go of Arthur's hand quickly jumping up into the branches. Once he steadied himself on the lowest branch he reached down to extend a hand to the Brit behind him. The poor guy was traumatized that much was obvious but he was going to have to stay tough for awhile longer until daybreak finally hit. 

It was all Arthur could do to keep up. The ex-soldier's body was conditioned far greater than Arthur's could hope to be, and it was by pure adrenaline alone that the Briton made it through the long stretch to the clearing of trees. When Alfred let go of his hand the Brit immediate clutched the stitch in his side, keeling over in pain against the trunk of the tree. As Alfred's beseeching hand came back into view, Arthur looked at it with dread but didn't hesitate to grab it. Despite his efforts, it took the ex-soldier a great deal of elbow grease to pull him up in the branches.

Alfred continued to encourage Arthur to move up the branches quickly for greater protection against the zombies. They could use the distance a great deal to their advantage as the infected seemed only capable of eating and mindless wondering. Once they were far enough up the tree for Alfred's liking he decided to see how badly their little stunt had affected the other guy. “You okay kid?” He asked looking up at Arthur who sat on a branch higher up the tree than Alfred.

"It's Arthur," he replied wearily, fed up with the pejorative and too exhausted to argue over it. He slumped against the tree and used it as a pillar to hold his weight up. Tremors wracked his muscles; his body was over-exerted and finally showing the effects of it. He consciously willed away the moans collecting underfoot as the zombies that had been lagging behind caught up to them and stood underneath the tree looking up. "How are you?"

“Pretty sure I twisted my ankle back there, but otherwise good. Also it’s nice to finally know your name. Mine’s Alfred by the way.” Alfred reached up and tugged a pinecone off the tree, “Wanna play a game?” Alfred asked as he tossed the cone up in the air a few times. “Whoever hits the most zombies down there doesn’t have to carry the heavy packs for a week. That is assuming you do plan on coming with me to the base camp. Well are you?”

"No choice." He smacked the pine cone away when Alfred tossed it up at him. "I'm not playing dodge ball. They were humans once." He wasn't that depraved of humanity. 

...Yet, Arthur wondered if he'd end up like Alfred, dispassionate about his dead partner's fate and deindividualized from the morals society shared once upon a time. Before all hell broke loose on earth, no one would even think to chuck pine cones at a corpse, even if it was something as abstract as a zombie. 

"I just want to sleep." And forget. Arthur held his arms around himself against the cold and to provide some amount of comfort. The civilian had noticed his developing habit of self-soothing, and he would have forced himself to stop if he wasn't positive it was one of the few things keeping him sane being alone.

Alfred looked up at him concerned, “I wouldn’t fall asleep there if I was you, and I’m not jumping into that hoard to pull you out if you fall out of this tree.” Alfred glanced down at the crowd gathered below them some trying and failing miserably to climb up the tree to reach them. Looking back at Arthur, Alfred could tell the poor guy hadn’t slept well at all in a long time. He sighed before unhooking the rope from his pack. “Here you should get some shut eye, just make sure to tie yourself to the tree first. At least that way you won’t fall out.”

Alfred startled Arthur out of his light doze. He wordlessly took the rope and after a short deliberation secured it around his waist and then tied the leftover slack around the trunk. If he lost his balance Arthur would still be screwed, but the extra precaution gave him a better chance of recovering. "Thanks," he yawned and huddled closer to the trunk. If he concentrated hard enough, he could drone out the moans with a song he used to listen to from an old iPod he dug up among the wreckage a few years back. Arthur was positive whoever the previous owner was had zero taste in music, but one song stuck with him. It was a classical piece, and Arthur recreated it from his mind now to drone out the sounds of the undead below.

Alfred leaned his back against the trunk and kept an eye on the infected surrounding them. He smiled slightly when he heard gentle snores intermix with the groans and snarls below. At least Arthur was able to get some sleep it would help tomorrow when they would make a good portion of their journey towards the camp. Alfred had heard the camp they were heading towards was making progress towards a cure for those infected, but that was to be expected when they had literally built the base within the confine of large protective walls. It was the safest and largest of all the bases and, if he is still alive, where his brother would most likely be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: New year, new story. With the finish of The Fall of Spades here is a new story about Alfred and Arthur. I hope you all enjoy it. Rate and reviews are always welcome. Until next time.


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred let his mind wonder until morning thinking of everything they would have to accomplish in order to make it to the base camp alive another rope would be a good addition to their supplies as they would probably be sleeping in trees more often when cities became more scarce and infected as they made their way forward. Alfred took note as the infected began making their way back to wherever they hid during the day, no one had bothered trying to find out as everyone was more concerned about survival rather than what the infected did during the day. Alfred took another cone from the tree and threw it at Arthur's head hitting his mark. He grinned as the blonde startled awake, payback was a bitch.

A surprised grunt was heard from above followed by quiet cursing. Arthur rubbed the side of his face where the pine cone hit, feeling bogged-down and groggy. He slept miserably last night and felt as tired as ever. Only this time his body ached, and his hand stung. 

Last night, Arthur blindly picked out the splinters of glass wedged in his palm. The tree obscured any moonlight, and it was too dark to see the damage. Now that the sun was out, just looking at it made him wince. It looked worse than it really was, but it still looked pretty bad. 

"Hm. Okay then." He gingerly picked the knot loose, mindful of his shredded hand. Just moving as a trial. His body was stiff all over, the soreness from sleeping in a tree all night making his muscles sore. After checking his surroundings he hopped down and adjusted the backpack on his back. Then it came to him. "Oh, bollocks." He left his pistol. 

He hated to admit his folly, but Alfred deserved to know since they were travelling together. "My pistol is gone," he admitted reluctantly but hurried in his excuse, "It was because your damn grenade startled me. I had no time to recover it when you /bolted/ and left me."

“Well it’s as good as gone now. I guarantee someone has already taken it. Fire arms are pretty hard to come by now so the ruffians round them up the second daybreak appears.” Alfred deftly swung down out of the tree and landed a few feet away from Arthur. He winced a bit when he placed more weight on his ankle. ‘Yep, definitely sprained,’ Alfred thought as he shifted a bit of his weight away from his injured foot. “Let’s go see if we can’t round up a bit more food and another rope before we take off also we need to get that hand wrapped up.” Alfred grabbed Arthur's wrist of his injured hand and looked at the damage. “I really don’t want to have to amputate it. I’ve done it before but dude it ain’t pretty. Besides you wouldn’t be able to fire a weapon with that hand anyway.”

Arthur snatched his hand away and held it to his chest. "Why is that the first thing you think of?!" Exasperated, Arthur flopped his backpack down and rummaged inside. "Here, take off your shoe so I can bind your ankle." The civilian sat back on his heels and pulled out a roll of soft elasticized bandage, antiseptic, a sealed pack of medical gauze, and medical tape. As Alfred struggled to pull off his shoe, Arthur sterilized his hand and bandaged it up. Then, he rolled up Alfred's pant leg and proceeded to wrap up his ankle snug from toe to heel. "I have enough food and water, I think. It won't last us for two weeks, but we can find something on the way." He'd rather supply run on the move than backtrack.

Alfred half listened as he winced while pulling back on his boot, hopefully the injury wouldn’t impede any progress they would make today. Alfred stood up and experimentally put some weight on his foot, it was still sore but usable. “You sure know how to wrap an injury. Had much experience with your clumsiness?” Alfred questioned a light teasing to his tone showed he meant no harm just trying to make their already hard situation a little more bearable.

"Only on testosterone-driven clowns like you." Arthur pulled on his backpack again. "You'll have to lean on me, or else you'll be the one with the amputated limb." He cut Alfred a glare before the ex-soldier could object. "I'm serious. You'll cripple yourself if you play tough guy." Arthur pulled Alfred's arm across his shoulders and tucked his own arm around Alfred's waist. It was the least he could do, considering Alfred saved his life last night. But he wasn't about to say that. "Well? Where to?"

“Well once we hit the main road we cross it and then travel south from there until we hit the old train station. That should be a good place to stop tonight because the water tower is high enough to be safe and we can hide on there for the night.” Alfred directed as he began to limp forward dragging Arthur with him. “Still it’ll be a good ten hour walk with my injury since you won’t let me just grin and bear it. Generally I could get there in six hours but hey better slow than an amputee.”

"What about driving?" Arthur hadn't considered that. Once they left the city limits and entered into the countryside maybe they could find an off-road vehicle. 

But so long as they were in the city, driving was out of the question. Navigation was limited to the roads, which was ironically the worst places to drive. Almost every road was obstructed with abandoned cars. When evacuation became mandatory the people's panic had reached their peak, and in their haste to escape traffic collisions were rampant. Cars were backed up for miles. They were also where the most tragic zombie attacks happened.

The roads were dangerous because they could easily get boxed in, but they were also dense with zombies; the undead usually didn't travel far from their "resurrection." 

Arthur would have suggested bicycles if it weren't for Alfred's ankle. Even if Alfred sat in the back, it wouldn't hold two grown men /and/ their packs. The only thing they could do was walk (limp) as fast as they could. 

They walked for hours. They passed a water bottle between them and ate protein bars, but they didn't stop. Alfred calling him "kid" only intermittently now. It was an improvement, but he still didn't like the ex-soldier. When Alfred acted condescending to him, Arthur reminded him that the army failed the country and that he was just a normal citizen now. Alfred had training, Arthur could respect that, but he still hated arrogant fucks like Alfred who was all brawn and no brain. If things were better and Arthur met Alfred on the street, he would still hate him.

Alfred grumbled every time Arthur made one of his normal civilian comments, but chose to pout about them in silence. It wasn’t his fault that his superiors refused to send help out to the areas that needed it the most for fear of losing their own lives. After a few hours of limping Alfred's other leg began to get sore as it bore the brunt of his weight, Alfred wasn’t going to lean completely on a guy who was smaller than him and already carrying a heavy pack. Alfred felt that he was doing well to hide his discomfort, he soon took notice though that he was relying more heavily on Arthur and the Brit was getting more fatigued. Alfred suggested they took a much needed break even if it was only for a few minutes.

Alfred flinched as he put weight back onto his injured ankle while trying to take pressure off his other foot. Eventually he gave up on standing and sat down letting both his legs fall limply to the sides. He looked around at their surroundings and noticed a house out in the distance maybe they would get lucky and find some ATVs to get them a few hours ahead. Alfred quietly laughed to himself at his overly optimistic attitude, as if they would ever get that lucky.

Arthur wordlessly flopped down beside him. He grabbed the front of his shirt and fanned it, letting the air circulate and cool his sweat. The sun was unrelenting and burned his pale skin. "Elevate your ankle above your heart," Arthur said lazily as he curled up and rested his forehead on his knees. They'll wait and watch the house for a few minutes before deeming it worth the scavenge or not.

Alfred raised an eyebrow in amusement, “And how exactly am I supposed to do that in the middle of nowhere? Anyways what are you my doctor? I’ve survived worse than this and lived.” Alfred flopped onto his back figuring laying flat was the next best thing he could do. Hopefully it would satisfy Arthur enough so he wouldn’t nag, sometimes the guy reminded Alfred of his mother.

"Use the backpack, you knob." When Alfred remained impudent, Arthur heaved an exaggerated, out-upon sigh and shuffled closer. He coaxed Alfred into putting his foot on his lap while the ex-soldier laid down flat on his back. "And, to answer your question, I'm self-trained in emergency medicine--" before Alfred could laugh at his self-important attitude, Arthur smacked his injury. "Don't laugh! Anyway, before you start spewing off about babysitting this 'kid' again; know that while I am not a so-called urban survivalist like you, I am efficient in important things."

After regaining his composure from his injury being smacked Alfred scoffed and remarked, “Last time I checked survival is pretty damn important, but hey what were you studying for? A paramedic or ER doctor?” Alfred looked at Arthur and quickly took into account his probable age he never did ask. “Nah gotta be a paramedic too young to be a doctor or even premed.” He said mostly to himself.

"I was too young when the virus went global." Arthur shifted uncomfortably, wary of giving his age if Alfred was going to use it against him. He really did feel like a kid right now. "I wanted to study the Classics and was saving up for college when it happened." They both knew what 'it' was. The end of the world. The apocalypse. The fall of man. Whatever you called it. He didn't care anymore, hadn't cared for a long time.

"I was useless. My brothers said that they'd just trip over me if I went with them on sweeps. So I did most of the aid work, which included medical relief and grounds keeping and the like. I didn't want to be kicked out." Although only a month had passed since Arthur set off on his own, it felt like a lifetime. "My brothers impaled the heads of trespassers on pikes in front of the gates like they were some Medieval kings." He shook his head, deep in thought. "I thought about leaving. But they were my family, after all."

Arthur gestured for Alfred to move his foot, and the young man stood and stretched. "I'm going to check inside for anything." He shoved Alfred's pistol in the back of his trousers and went inside the house.

Alfred sat quietly as he watched Arthur head inside the building half of his mind screaming at him for letting the Brit go in there alone, but he knew logically this was best Alfred was near useless right now with his foot and he was dragging Arthur down. It would be easy for Arthur to take off with Alfred's supplies when Alfred would close his eyes to rest. He knew he was being paranoid but too much had happened recently for Alfred to be able to trust anyone. After listening to Arthur's past Alfred felt slightly more comfortable around him at least he was reliant on someone’s protection in the past, which would make him less likely to strike out and leave Alfred for dead.

Alfred stayed in his own thoughts while Arthur searched out the house, and when the Brit came back Alfred blinked in surprise at the other’s ‘sudden appearance.’ “That was fast.” He remarked sounding the slightest bit impressed at the efficiency Arthur possessed.

As he approached, he held up a red med pack like a trophy. "You just need to know where to look, is all." He flounced back down and searched through it like a kid at Christmas. "They left all their stuff half-packed. Something must have happened. There was even a portable gas grill! But it's too heavy, and we can't afford to rest that long. But... what I wouldn't give for a cup of tea." He grinned, reorganizing the bags so both caches had essentials supplies in the event that they lost one. He looked up at Alfred. "I even got shaving cream. You need to shave off that scruff."

“What don’t you think it makes me look handsome?” Alfred asked a big grin plastered on his face as he began to pose as though he was in a grand photo shoot out in the middle of nowhere. After a few moments he stopped and glanced over everything Arthur had gotten they would last a few days with the stuff but it would also weigh them down more. Alfred was just going to have to deal with the pain in his ankle so they could move more quickly. “Hey they wouldn’t happen to have some pain killers so I can actually walk on my own now, would they?” The quick change from playful to serious was startling to say the least, but most soldiers that had just come back from the war before everything went to hell acted in a similar manner taking every second they could to have fun before going back to killing each other the next moment.

"I thought about that," Arthur began thoughtfully, "but I decided, no. You're going to feel the pain to understand your threshold." Arthur gave him a look that betrayed his concern. "You understand how crucial it is to be healthy out here. So trust me for the next few days. I won't let you down." He half-expected a flat-out rejection from Alfred, and he waited with baited breath. He didn't know why Alfred's trust was so important. He was just a meathead. He chalked up his concern to being an extension of a practitioner seeing that an infirm make it to a full recovery. "But I will give you a little just to minimize the swelling." The civilian shook out a few pills and deposited them in Alfred's waiting palm.

Alfred sighed and shrugged, “Fair enough it probably best that we don’t waste it. Who knows when we’ll find some more, this stuff is practically gold nowadays.” Alfred swallowed the medication dry figuring it’d be best not to waste any water unless the really needed it. Alfred didn’t reach for the shaving cream he knew that if he kept his scruff it would scare off some of the weaker raiders that would assume by his appearance he was much too experienced in the wild to try and steal from. After waiting a few minutes as Arthur finished settling their packs Alfred stood up. He refused to wince lest Arthur tried to make him stay off his ankle more. “Let’s get going we still have a lot of ground to cover before nightfall.”

Arthur gave Alfred the smaller cache before tucking the man against him again. He'd never admit it out loud, but feeling Alfred's solid warmth against him was... nice. He never realized how important human touch was until he lived in fear of others. Running from strangers was the wisest thing to do. Who knew who they were and how far they had fallen from humanity? There were raiders, cannibals, and corrupted factions leftover from bygone years. Alfred wasn't anything like the military soldiers he had come in contact with, but then again those so-called "soldiers" were usually aiming at him through the crosshair of a rifle. 

"What is the shelter like?" Arthur was curious about their final destination and wanted to be prepared for it.

Alfred was still grumbling under his breath about being fine to walk on his own, but answered Arthur's question anyways. “It’s basically a city surrounded by electric fencing and soldiers. People in there have gone back to living semi-average lives there’s even a small school to educate the minors living in there. It’s better than out here at least.” Alfred described briefly his frustration causing him to skip over the grand detail he would generally give when describing the place. “Hurry up. We need to move quicker and if you’d just let me walk on my own we’d be there twice as fast.”

Arthur rolled his eyes heavenward. He passed up on the opportunity to grace Alfred's tantrum with a reply because he was sure Alfred knew deep down that they were doing the right thing. Hours passed, and by the time they arrived at the water tower the sun was cresting on the edge of the earth. Dusk approached, and they had an hour or two to set up before they turned in for the night. They secured the surrounding area of zombies, eliminating the few loners that seemed to have stayed behind. For no discernible reason, zombies traveled in packs. 

After reliving themselves the men moved to the water tower. Unlike the typical sloped design, the roof was flat and safer to move around on. Considering they were hundreds of feet in the air. The wind carried a chill that turned his skin icy. Arthur shivered on his side, curled up in a blanket and trying his hardest to get some shut eye.

Alfred lay back but found it impossible for him to fall asleep regardless of how tired he was. Paranoia ate at his mind fearing that tonight would be the night he encountered a zombie with a semblance of intelligence still left or a raider would be stupid enough to risk the night and attack them. Even thoughts of Arthur killing him while he slept crept into his mind. He tried to tell himself to forget about all of that but he couldn’t it was still there and it still bothered him. 

Alfred slowly rolled over onto his side and clutched his gun closer now facing Arthur. He watched as the blonde shivered underneath his thin blanket and after a moment of deliberation Alfred sighed and sat up. He pulled his own blanket off himself and threw it onto Arthur figuring that at least one of them should get decent sleep that night.

Arthur poked his head out from the blanket Alfred threw over his head. It messed up his hair and he looked like he'd just woken up after a bad dream. "What..? Alfred..." Arthur couldn't deny that he wanted it. It was already toasty from Alfred's body, and he felt twice as warm now. Still... "Alfred, I can't accept this with a clear conscience." As he pulled it off and handed it back he had to look away. He wasn't necessarily torn on the issue as he was disappointed at the prospect of losing a night's rest. He was so miserably cold. But when Alfred refused to take it back, the Briton frowned and shook his head. Alfred may be stubborn, but Arthur was worse. "Have it your way. Then, we might as well share." Arthur coughed into his fist, feeling embarrassed even if it was a logical solution.

Alfred looked at Arthur bewildered by the suggestion, and slightly shocked that the Brit even thought to ask. After a moment’s contemplation Alfred shook his head declining the offer, “I’m not tired. You go ahead and use it, I’ll be fine.” Alfred turned just slightly so that he wasn’t directly facing Arthur anymore, but rather facing the gentle glow of moonlight that shone upon them. Up as high as they were the groans from the infected below were swept away by the night breeze, it would have been quite peaceful had it not been so cold.

Arthur blushed in shame. "O-of course." He slowly lowered corner of the blanket he held out for Alfred to slip under. The moonlight glowed on the curve of Alfred's face, and it struck Arthur just how handsome he was. Gooseflesh prickled on the ex-soldier's skin, and his breath misted in the air. Arthur was envious of Alfred's masculine features but also struck by awe and something like affection. Arthur licked his dry lips. "Um... are you sure?"

“Yea, seriously, you sleep you’re gonna need it. We have a lot more walking to do tomorrow and I can’t have you half asleep while we walk. It wouldn’t do us any good to each have a sprained ankle.” Alfred tried to make his response sound as lighthearted as possible but it still came out sounding strained even to Alfred's ears. “Seriously Arthur I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with worse.”

"Then freeze to death for all I care. Don't expect me to do you any more favors." Arthur spun around and snubbed the ex-soldier with his back. In his haste the blankets billowed out, and a gust of wind ghosted inside. Arthur swore and shivered. Damn wannabe soldier. He could take a nosedive into the awaiting hoard below for all he cared. He was trying to be nice and the blasted yank shoved it back in his face. 

Arthur ignored him for the rest of the night. Miraculously, when he finally calmed down, he fell asleep a few hours before dawn. It was the best sleep he had in a long while. He didn't want to wake up. But, when he did, he sighed in resignation and faced the day like he always did: with wary anticipation and dread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys so this one was a little slow but hey gotta get to know the characters and their personalities right? Anyways reviews are always appreciated thanks to all of you who came over from the last story. I’m so glad you guys liked it so much! Until next time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Important note about their ages at the end.

Alfred sat silently watching over Arthur throughout the night, he couldn’t remember the last time he slept more than two hours a night, but he had grown accustomed to such little sleep that the lack thereof didn’t bother him as much as it should have. When morning hit Alfred had already mentally mapped out their travels for the day, if they were quick enough they could reach the nearest camp by mid afternoon it was the closest place to rest without risking nightfall and the dangers that followed. “Morning sunshine.” Alfred said cheerfully, he laughed at Arthur's appearance his hair was everywhere and looked like it hadn’t been brushed in weeks, which it probably hadn’t. “Sleep well?”

Arthur's nest of hair poked out of the roll of blankets. He looked at the ex-soldier and blinked the bleariness from his eyes. "Better than I had in a month," he croaked and then cleared his throat. He felt warm and snug. He didn't want to get up. 

Arthur sighed and unfurled from the blankets, handing Alfred's back with a thankful nod. After a cold breakfast of canned soup the two packed up and headed east towards one of the last remaining human civilizations. Arthur wasn't keen on relying on Alfred's survival instincts, but Alfred had no physical map. The civilian had no choice but to trust the ex-soldier. 

Arthur persisted and lectured and annoyed him until Alfred let Arthur support his weight as they walked. It was just until they found a crutch or any decent apparatus to aid in the recovery of Alfred's injured ankle. Besides Arthur telling Alfred he stunk and the latter reminding him he didn't smell like a bowl of roses himself, they walked in silence. Arthur wouldn't have cared, wouldn't have /wanted/ Alfred to speak at all, but they were going to be watching each other's back for two weeks. Shouldn't they at least get to know each other? Arthur tried several times to start a conversation, but always stopped himself at the last second.

After the last glance in his direction Alfred sighed and asked, “What is it? And don’t say nothing I know it’s something that bothering you, so out with it.” Arthur had looked uncomfortable for the past hour of their silent journey helping a begrudging Alfred along acting as a crutch to prevent Alfred from putting weight on his ankle. The silence isn’t what had bothered or prompted Alfred to question Arthur, no it was the constant sneaked glanced up at his face when Arthur thought he wasn’t looking. It was the way Arthur would open his mouth slightly as if to say something but shut it soon after choosing to remain silent. Silence Alfred could handle, awkward tension had never been his forte. 

"...I was going to ask you about yourself, but I really don't want to anymore," he muttered into his shoulder. It was the truth, crass in its blatancy. Arthur was embarrassed to be called out on his awkwardness, and now that the spotlight was on him the importance of talking to Alfred minimized to zero. He felt better when he remembered that Alfred still juggled "kid" with his name every now and then. There was no point in caring what he thought about him.

“If that’s all it was then ask whatever you want, whenever you want. I have nothing I need to hide behind lies. Besides our trip will take quite a while so we might as well get to know each other a bit.” Alfred responded easily not at all bothered by Arthur's curiosity, he was curious about the blonde as well. He knew Arthur had brothers and seemingly something happened to them whether they were dead or infected Alfred didn’t know, but he also felt it wasn’t his place to ask either as the wound still seemed quite fresh.

Arthur said nothing. They continued walking in silence. The silence was so long it was as if he never heard him, but he finally spoke. "What was your life like before the virus spread to your home? Did you have friends, or a girlfriend?" Arthur imagined Alfred as the jock type. Something classic like the star quarterback. Alfred must have been someone idolized for nothing more than his popularity and someone who bullied the weak to show off his superiority. Arthur couldn't muster the strength to loathe that hypothetical Alfred. That was a whole other world so far removed from reality. In a world where one's water supply was more important than who was going out with who, Arthur couldn't see the past as anything more than a mythological dream haze.

Alfred stiffened a bit but otherwise answered Arthur's question, “Well no girlfriend per say, but I did have a lot of friends. I was on the wrestling team and the football team, but I only played second string so I rarely ever saw action. I was more of a math nerd I always liked numbers it helps me now to keep my directions straight even without a map I sorta just calculate how far something is and then judge by the speed of my travel hour long it’ll take. Well that’s just the shortened condensed form but you get the idea.” Alfred looked over at Arthur to see if he had answered the question to the other’s satisfaction and judging by the surprised look on Arthur's face he guessed he had. “What about you?”

"I had just emigrated from England with my family. I was in the highly gifted program at school, and I played football. Real football. You call it "soccer" here in the States. But what I loved most was reading." He could leave out the unicorn tea parties and fairy magic. Alfred didn't need to know about the embroidery, either. "I loved getting lost in books. They're written by other people, but it's you who makes it real in your mind. I think that's amazing." He thought back to his books at the hold. Before his brothers burnt them, he read them on his free time and imagined being in those worlds as he fell asleep.

“Yea books are pretty cool, but seriously, no girl hanging off your arm. Back in the area I’m from you’d have the option of at least half the female population just from the moment you said hello.” Alfred imitated, a rather poor version of, the way Arthur spoke as he said hello snickering at what had apparently been to Alfred a joke. “Let me guess there was a French guy on campus that’s why you were single. Come on admit it.” Alfred poked at Arthur in the most irritating fashion.

Arthur wrinkled his nose distastefully. "Stop that." He batted the offending hand away. "Yes, there was a Frog on campus, too, though I have no idea why you would know that. But it wasn't like that. They had "Team Arthur," and "Team Francis." Proper fangirls, I tell you. They fought over who was better. At lunch I literally ran away and hid under the bleachers. Don't laugh! Francis, however, blossomed in the spotlight." An angry blush bloomed across his cheeks. "Because of that, Team Francis absorbed my so-called fanclub and I was left with the asshole jocks that picked on me." A chuckle bubbled in his chest. "Little did they know both batted for the other team."

“O-Oh really, for the other team huh?” Alfred asked surprise evident in his voice. “Poor girls would have had their hearts broken if they ever knew. Well that or demand you become their best friend and take them shopping. I never understood why they seemed to think like that…” Alfred shrugged it off and put it in his mental box of things he’d never understand.

Arthur laughed. It was a short hitch of air, but it was the most he'd shown in months. Years, truthfully. "It doesn't bother you, does it?" He fooled around with Francis more times than he cared to admit. It was exploration and curiosity, but nothing more. They were two boys at the right time and place. What did Francis call himself? Pan... sexual?

“No, not really, but it’s just sort of looked down upon even more since the outbreak. Everyone seems to believe that creating children is more important now than being happy with who you are.” Alfred stopped himself, “Sorry, stay around close minded idiots and you start spewing what they do. Anyways what you do is up to you don’t let other people try to influence what you think.”

Arthur couldn't imagine the military being any more accepting than the average raider microcosm. Worse, even. But it was the women who bore the children who suffered the most. "...do you think the place we're going to is like that?" He hadn't considered the social climate of the Haven. Arthur thought anything was better than skittering around like frighten animals out in the wastes, but he was leery of settling for a domesticated unhappiness, too. Arthur knew the importance of contributing to the community, you earned your keep, but he also wanted a life worth living for himself. He also didn't want to see others suffer for the so-called "greater good."

“I honestly don’t know. Last time I was there it was pretty accepting, but that can change in an instant. Each one seems to be different some more accepting than others but the more accepting ones also are the ones on the brink of death and destruction so they allow it simply because they are all going to die soon anyways.” Alfred shrugged his shoulders as best he could being helped along by Arthur. He looked down in thought before brushing off the subject entirely, “It doesn’t matter anyways, so long as you’re discreet you can fit in anywhere. Let’s pick up the pace otherwise we won’t make it to where we’re going in time.”

The silence was no longer awkward, but companionable. Arthur was beginning to like the ex-soldier. He didn't know how else to explain it, but he liked the way Alfred survived. If Alfred was in the army he must have been with the first responders leading the civilians to safety. He wondered how many shelters Alfred herded the civilians into, only to abandon them when they were overrun. 

They walked along as quickly as they could manage and ended up making great time with very few setbacks. Alfred smiled as he saw the camp out in the distance and pointed it out to Arthur beginning to tell the other about the people who lived in the small encampment. As they approached the camp Alfred's demeanor changed at the destruction littered about the ruined camp before them and the bodies littering the ground there. “Hello?” Alfred called out, little hope left in his voice.

Hope bubbled in his chest as Alfred pointed out the ashen lines of campfire smoke out in the distance. He couldn't be happier to leave the wasteland behind and be among people again. The two men picked up the pace. As the camp materialized on the horizon, Arthur made out the shape of tents that could easily shelter hundreds of people, and judging by the uniformity of the layout Arthur could easily guess the military was behind it. Rudimentary watchtowers were posted at all four directions. Securing the camp's perimeter were two walls of chain-linked fences ringed with barbed wires. Alfred began describing his friends with such fondness that Arthur felt like he always knew them.

But as they neared the encampment and no one came out to receive them, a dawning dread shadowed over them. Something was very wrong. 

The gates were open. They realized it at the same time, and Alfred almost took off into a sprint. Arthur forced him back so they entered together. As they crossed the bridge leading into the fort, Arthur saw the spiked pits between the fences were filled with the charred corpses of the undead. After the zombies were incapacitated inside the pit, they must have used some fuel to exterminate them. Evidence of a malfunction was seen by the remains of a fire spread that cut across several lines of tents. The corpse of a burned soldier nearby solved that mystery. 

All that was left was the stink of death. They walked together and slowly stopped in the middle of camp and looked around. Arthur stared sightlessly at the bodies too disassembled to reanimate littered the ground. When Alfred called that meek hello, Arthur turned to him sadly. "Alfred, I'm so sorry..."

“I would always stop here whenever I had to venture out into the wastes it was pretty safe for such a small encampment. The main one, our final destination, its much bigger than this so much bigger it fits at least a thousand inside, but it’s not the same nearly everyone there is a stranger to me. These people were my friends and now they’re gone.” Alfred spoke with a dull numbness in his voice one that came from one experiencing death one too many times. His face held the same hollow deadness as the corpses that surround them. “They’re gone Arthur. All of them there was at least 170 people left alive here last time I came and now they’re all gone.” 

Alfred looked towards the broken entrance briefly wondering how safe they would be if they simply fixed the gates instead of moving on the next safe ground was well over five hours travel and the darkness of night would be on them in three. “W- We need to fix the broken fencing quickly before night falls. The corpses here should mask our scent enough to keep us safe until tomorrow.” Alfred concluded replacing his sorrow with calculated logic. It was all he had left to keep him sane in this world of such violent and grotesque destruction. 

Sour bile rose in Arthur's throat, and he quickly covered his mouth. Just thinking of holing up here for the night made him nauseous. Where would they sleep? Arthur looked to the watchtower farthest from the carnage. They would be above ground level and vigilant of intruders. In the worst case scenario, the ramp leading up to the structure could be destroyed. Alfred nodded at Arthur's suggestion, but the civilian suspected the ex-soldier wasn't all there. 

Just for tonight, Arthur thought, they could spoil themselves with hot food. Instead of their usual single can of soup or pasta, Arthur dumped two helpings of each into a large pot on a portable propane gas grill. There was just enough room left to boil water for tea. Arthur was sitting quietly and watching the food when Alfred finally joined him in the tower. Arthur looked up and grinned. The excitement over real food washed the past few hours from his mind, if just for a while.

Alfred plopped down wearily leaning against the curved wall behind him. “I fixed the fencing as best I could, but I have no idea if it’ll last the night.” Alfred paused and amended, “I have no idea if we’ll last the night.” He stared down at his boots for a few moments before saying just about a whisper, “I’m sorry.” He wrapped in on himself trying to make himself smaller as a small child would when frightened. “I’m so sorry.”

The wooden spoon clattered to the ground as Arthur dropped what he was doing and came to Alfred. "It's not your fault!" He hovered his hands anxiously over Alfred's fetal form, at a loss of what to do. He was not used to comforting anyone and didn't want to make a mistake. The fort was too much for Alfred. The stress must have been building up for a long time, and tonight was the last straw. "You're scaring me, Alfred." He gently shook Alfred's shoulder. 

The civilian slowly drew his hand back, giving Alfred his space. Arthur focused on dinner, casting furtive glances at the ex-soldier every now and then. He served a generous helping in a large bowl and set it besides Alfred with a spoon. "It's Spaghettios and Chicken Noodle. Don't let it get cold." 

Arthur slopped more into his bowl and began eating. He couldn't enjoy it. It tasted like ash in his mouth. The civilian stared over the fence into the sunset. They would be coming soon. Just as he was about to steep the tea in the hot water, a branch snapped. Arthur quickly scrambled up and looked over the wooden railing of the watchtower. He caught a flash of blond hair as a young boy ducked back under the ramp to the tower. Arthur's heart lodged in his throat. A survivor? "What are you doing down there?" He cautiously crouched and looked down at the boy. As the boy just stared back, Arthur cocked his head. "Well are you going to come up and eat or not?" A miserable growl in the boy's belly was all Arthur needed to hear that the boy was starving. "Silly boy. You can eat with me and my friend." He stood up and gestured to the boy. 

The boy was young, not a day older than nine. His face was smeared in ash and who knew what else, and the sparkle in the boy's baby blues was long gone. Arthur thought it was just grime, but those two big marks on his face appeared to be eyebrows. He could tell this boy was resilient; once he judged Arthur to be safe; he stumbled up the ramp in his haste to meet him. Arthur yelped in surprise when the boy knocked him back in an embrace, tripping over Alfred who was still lying on his side. "Fuck! God damn it!" Arthur sat up and looked at the boy still clutching grim death on his person. "Get the hell off me!"

Alfred, who had stopped playing with his soupy dinner when Arthur had begun to call out to another person, felt tears spring to his eyes as he recognized the young boy as the son of a good friend of his. The boy clung to Arthur soft sobs emanating from his small form due to both the shock and sadness of losing his family. “Peter?” he called out questioning, half daring to hope that it truly was the boy and not all was lost. “Peter is that you?”

The boy’s head popped up at the sound of his name being called and quickly tore himself off of Arthur in favor of a familiar face. “Al!” Peter clung to the soldier tears springing from his eyes, “Al, e-everyone t-they, they’re all gone!” He sobbed as Alfred brought his arms and clung to the boy just as tightly. Alfred looked up at Arthur and his momentary happiness was crushed in an instant by the look on Arthur's face.

Arthur groaned and rubbed the back of his head where it smarted. He watched the scene between Alfred and the boy. Pain was clear on his face, and Arthur's desire to hold Alfred was so great it hurt. Arthur's eyes drifted from Alfred's bittersweet smile and fell on the back of Peter's neck. There, a crescent-shaped bite mark blemished the curve of his neck. Arthur hadn't realized he was holding his breath until he was forced to exhale. He met Alfred's eyes, and he knew Alfred understood.

“H-hey kiddo.” Alfred began shakily not wanting to scare Peter by alarming him to the bite on his neck and what it would mean for him in a few hours if left to fester. “How are you feelin’? Hungry?” Alfred asked as he offered the small boy his, mostly untouched, food. 

Without so much as a thank you Peter grabbed hold of the container and quickly downed the food. Incessant hunger: It was one of the many symptoms that signaled the infection that stemmed from a bite mark, of course the young boy would be infected. Alfred had hoped morosely that the bite had been from a cannibalistic psychopath and not one of the infected, but judging by how his day had been going thus far luck didn’t seem to be on his side.

There were only two options that they could choose from here: allow the boy to become fully infected and leave him behind or kill him before the infection turned him into a monster that was supposed to exist only in children’s nightmares. Alfred's shoulders slumped back down in defeat either option meant the loss of a boy Alfred held dear. There was nothing good that could come out of the day. A day filled with death and destruction refused to be satiated until it destroyed all in its path and Alfred had seen far too many of those days, enough to last him a lifetime.

“Sorry Al I guess I didn’t know how hungry I was.” Peter murmured softly as he finished the meal. He gently set the bowl down on the floor as he curled up into a small ball next to Alfred's side.

“It’s alright kiddo. I wasn’t that hungry anyways.” Alfred looked up at Arthur silently asking what they should do in the given situation.

Peter wordlessly held out the bowl for more; Arthur only tisked at the mess on his face before ladling him a second helping. The civilian then scooped up his own bowl and handed it to Alfred with a look that made no room for argument. The man was going to eat, and then he was going to /sleep/. Arthur sat down and nursed a cup of over-steeped tea and stared sightlessly across the distance. Time passed. Before the sun left the sky, Arthur put his empty cup down. "I forgot something. I'll be right back." Before Alfred could argue, the man left the watchtower. He returned to the storage shed where he recovered the grill and other supplies. Earlier, he came across a locked cache of pills. When he read the written instructions that came with them, he felt sick. He immediately put it out of his mind; he'd never go so low as to resort to that.

Arthur picked out two bottles and closed the lid. He shouldn't have been surprised by how light the bottles were, but he was. As he rolled them in his hand, light caught off the glass. The capsules inside gleamed. 

Arthur pocketed them and left the shed. He jogged up the ramp and returned to Alfred and the boy. As Arthur passed, he gave Alfred a small nod-- for what reason, he didn't know. It wasn't reassuring. It wasn't comforting. What he was about to do was the most heinous crime known to humanity. 

Arthur popped open the cap of a soda bottle. It immediately grabbed Peter's attention, but Arthur just gave him a firm shake of the finger and turned his back on the boy. As the boy sat back down and pouted, Arthur took out the bottles.

"Here, Peter. You've been a brave boy." Arthur gave Peter the soda.

Alfred felt like he was going to throw up as he saw the Briton turn his back and place a bottle of pills in his bag after Peter happily took the soda bottle from him. Alfred held his arms out to the boy and he quickly settled into the comforting embrace of a familiar face. Alfred held Peter close gently whispering comforting words in the boy’s ear, “It’s going to be okay. We’ll take care of you. You’re going to be okay.” As Alfred felt the boy slowly growing limp in his arms Alfred felt tears build up in his eyes he blinked hard to try and stop them from falling.

“You’re going to be okay.” Alfred whispered out as the boy finally fell completely limp in his arms dropping the soda bottle the rest of the contents spilling on the floor. A few tears escaped his eyes as he released a shuddering breath trying to hold himself together. 

Peter slept as the cyanide invaded his small body. Combined with the tranquilizers, Arthur ensured that the boy slipped into a coma. If Peter was awake he would have suffered cardiac arrest or respiratory failure. Arthur sat beside him and petted his hair while Alfred whispered to him. Peter passed peacefully and painlessly, and that was all they could hope for. 

Peter's body grew cold, and yet Alfred still held him. Arthur touched his hand to Alfred's cheek and guided his face towards him. "You'll go crazy if you hold it all it. It's okay to cry." Arthur moved closer and put his arms around his shoulders. He gathered the ex-soldier in his arms, resting Alfred's head in the warm junction between Arthur's shoulder and neck. "Cry, Alfred," he whispered and kissed his hair.

All at once Alfred felt his walls break down and with them came a flood of tears that he had been holding in for longer than he cared to remember. He sobbed against Arthur's shoulder letting the other comfort him against his overwhelming grief. It had all been too much; Alfred like many other survivors had lost too much and having to murder such a young child killed Alfred inside. Such a young boy who never even had the chance to really live as the beginning of the end happened when he was only three; the inside of this camp was all he ever really knew. Alfred took a small comfort in thinking that he was at least spared more horrors and reunited with his parents both had fought in the war with Alfred and had to leave Peter with his uncles, who could no longer fight due to injury and was lucky to even have been reunited with his fathers.

Alfred felt his eyes grow heavy the more he cried the exhaustion of such little sleep beginning to take its toll on him. He felt himself growing limp against Arthur's shoulder and chose to let his body give into such a basic need: sleep. His last thoughts before he finally went completely limp were of nothing but trust that Arthur would protect him, protect them, as he slept it was more trust than he had given anyone in a very long time.

Arthur didn't tell him it was okay or that it was going to be all right. It wasn't. He was simply there for him, for all that it was worth. Hot tears soaked through his clothes and dripped down his back, and still Arthur held him. It would be Arthur's turn to grieve soon enough. For now, Alfred needed it. 

When Alfred began to gently snore, Arthur carefully set him down, even managing to elevate Alfred's foot without waking him. Arthur picked up Peter's remains and left the tower. He wanted to rest Peter somewhere befitting, but it was already night and the fences could only hold out so much. They were designed to slow down the creatures as the humans picked them off. No fence could hold back a hoard of zombies. 

Arthur set Peter down besides the ramp where they could pay their last respects in the morning. The blanket he used to cloak his body completely sheltered him. Arthur bent down and rested his hand over Peter's face through the blanket. "I'm sorry," was all he said before he left and joined Alfred.

Alfred slept for a long time he didn’t even stir until Arthur shook his shoulder gently waking him long after the sun had risen over the horizon. Alfred sat up blinking confused as to where he was before slowly his mind began to wake up and remind him of all the events that had transpired over the night. Quickly that became the least important problem of the day as Alfred noticed how lat it had already gotten. “Shit! Why didn’t you wake me earlier? We need to get going. What time is it?” Alfred asked as he quickly got up and rushed over to the window looking at the placement of the sun, it was not yet midday so if they hurried they could make it to the nearby camp that was about five hours away. “Come on we need to hurry.”

"You needed to sleep," Arthur explained as Alfred rushed around. "Here, use these crutches." Arthur handed him a pair of crutches he fetched yesterday. They would be leaving the grill and other surplus behind. Arthur looked back at the dinnerware one last time before following Alfred down. When Alfred stopped to say his last goodbye to Peter, Arthur took his hand and squeezed it. 

It was right to assume the smell of death would mask their trail. During the night, a hoard passed the camp. Using night vision goggles, Arthur watched them migrate into the city. 

Now that Alfred had crutches they could carry more. They packed the night vision goggles, iodine capsules to sterilize water, LED flashlights, lighter fuel, and shoes. They also replenished their food and water supply. But, even with the upgraded backpacks, the extra load was cumbersome. 

They departed in the afternoon. They had only been walking for a few hours, but Arthur was already sweating under the scorching sun. The back of his neck and his face were burned, and he cursed his lack of foresight to bring a hat. Alfred was already surly for getting off at a late start, but the heat and extra weight did nothing for his mood. Arthur understood he was stressed out from what happened the night before, but it was getting on his nerves. The ex-soldier suggested veering off the main road and cutting across territory to get to the camp faster. Arthur was leery on the idea, but went along with it. Alfred was familiar with these parts. He trusted that Alfred knew what he was doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: What’s going to happen next??? Who knows? Also about their ages Alfred is 26 and Arthur is 20 sorta a mix up of ages in this one Arthur's the baby. Anyways since school started things will get a little hectic but I’ll try and update every Wednesday. As always rates and reviews are very much so appreciated. Until next time!


	4. Chapter 4

It was a stupid idea. They had plenty of time before nightfall to reach the next camp, but Alfred panicked due to their late start and made a stupid decision. It was probably going to cost them their lives. Alfred felt the gun to the back of his head long before he sensed the enemies that surround them. 

“Hands where I can see ‘em gimpy.” A strong German accent demanded. Alfred silently cursed before following the order doing his best to keep the crutches under his arms with simply his elbows. “Drop your weapon or your buddy here isn’t going to make it.” The attacker allowed Alfred to turn his head just enough to see a Spaniard pinning Arthur to the ground with a knife at the blonde’s throat. 

Alfred gritted his teeth but followed instructions knowing that if he didn’t either he or Arthur was going to die. Alfred moved slowly so as not to alarm the raider he dropped his pack down onto the ground and then slowly slid his rifle off his arm and placed it on the ground. He silently hoped none of them would notice the pistol in his jacket as he held his hands back up in the air waiting to see what the two men would do next and much to Alfred's disappointment a third member showed up to join the other two.

The man with the German voice, an albino with red eyes, swept the automatic rifle from his feet as the third man approached Alfred from behind. As he passed Arthur, he kicked up the loose dirt, sending the civilian into a coughing fit. With a face-full of dirt and a knee between his shoulder blades, Arthur could only make out a slim, tall man with fair hair. The blond patted Alfred down, and it made Arthur's blood boil with how unnecessarily invasive he was being. When the man discovered the side pistol he took it out with a flourish, like a magician would a rabbit from his hat. The albino and Spaniard hollered in amusement, and it was with such gumption that Arthur suspected they were sharing in an inside joke.

"Ah, First Lieutenant Alfred F. Jones. So glad to finally make your acquaintance," a French lilt purred from his lips. He cut Alfred a critical once-over, apparently impressed with what he saw. "Your reputation exceeds you." 

Arthur could only see the back of the man's head in the sun's blinding light, but he'd recognize that voice anywhere. "Francis!!" 

The Frenchman, startled, spun and looked at Arthur in open astonishment. "Mon dieu. If it isn't Monsieur Kirkland." But instead of the affable surprise he expected (or some cursory emotion like that), Arthur's childhood friend and greatest enemy just chuckled low in his throat. He took his sweet time ambling over to the civilian and made sure to step out of the sun's glare so it was right in Arthur's face. Somehow, that infuriated him more than being held up at knife point. A terrible foreboding sunk and coagulated in the pit of his stomach, much like it did when they approaching the camp. 

"Francis... let us go." That Cheshire cat smile just widened across the Frenchman's face. The civilian cast an alarmed glance at the albino who had not taken his eyes or rifle barrel away from Alfred, and he noticed the Spaniard had not slackened his hold on Arthur in the slightest. Arthur could tell they were well-disciplined. 

"Let's head on back, boys. We have a lot of celebrate today." As Arthur's captor bodily yanked him up by the back of his collar, Francis stepped close to Arthur. "Never thought I'd see you again, /rosbif/. Goodness, you need a haircut." Arthur cursed in outrage as Francis ruffled his hair. The Frenchman just barked out a laugh, but it was so fond it disturbed him. Something was very off about him. 

Francis turned and led the way. The Saxon and Spaniard, later known as Gilbert and Antonio, bound Alfred and Arthur's wrists with handcuffs and covered their eyes with bandannas. It seemed the trio had been following them for a while. They were led into the raiders' stronghold, an abandoned bomb shelter several miles from where they were captured.

Alfred flinched as they threw him to the ground and from the sound of another loud thump he assumed Arthur had suffered the same fate. Sitting up as best he could Alfred tried to appear more in control of the situation than he felt. “Alright I’ve had enough what the hell do you want with us? Take our supplies and leave us for dead. Isn’t that what your types are best at?” Alfred growled at their captors annoyed mostly at himself for falling into such an obvious trap.

“I wonder,” the Spaniard begun, before suddenly Alfred's blindfold was ripped off Alfred flinched at the harshness of the sudden lights on his eyes. “Perhaps it’s been too long and you’ve already killed so much you’ve forgotten the names and faces of their families and lovers that have been left behind, First Lieutenant Alfred F Jones of the 50th division scouting squad. I’m surprised to see you’ve picked up a new companion you seem to abandon yours so quickly. How long were you going to wait to throw this one to the wolves, Hmm?”

Alfred sighed in recognition, “Master Sergeant Carriedo, so good to see you alive. I would ask you to give up again but it seems no matter how many times I tell you what happened it’s never going to sink in through your thick skull.” A resounding slap could be heard Alfred didn’t speak a word as Antonio began to scream at him in a mixture of Spanish and English, he was used to this by now all the threats but never any action. He didn’t and wouldn’t ever fear Antonio who was simply grieving over a lost loved one, Alfred understood the man’s need to place blame upon someone and Alfred was an easy target as he was Lovino’s squad leader. “Do your worst to me, but leave Arthur out of this. He has nothing to do with our quarrel.” Alfred calmly said to Antonio once the other had quieted his cursing.

Arthur saw the slap coming, but it still alarmed him. "Alfred!" Arthur edged closer to the ex-soldier where he sat on the floor. At first the civilian flinched away from the Spaniard's frightening onslaught, but Arthur refused to let the Spaniard petrify him from defending himself and Alfred. "Alfred," he said softly and inspected his face. Behind the curtain of cornflower hair Arthur tucked behind his ear, a bright red mark marred the side of Alfred's face. He didn't know what Antonio was accusing Alfred of, and he didn't know what Alfred's explanation was. But, he did know that Alfred saved him when he could have ran, and that Alfred cried for the boy and his dead friends. 

He was about to scream back at Antonio to shut the hell up, but Alfred's resigned request to spare Arthur gave him pause.

Gilbert stepped in. "Aw, but our little "/rosbif/" here is also a person of interest." As if they didn't get the picture, Gilbert nudged Arthur's shoulder with the bottom of his foot. It was humiliating, as if he was rousing an animal from sleep. Arthur refused to cower behind Alfred or curl up into a ball, but he couldn't stop himself from shaking-- from fear, from anger. He hated these two men before him, but he hated Francis even more.

Alfred positioned himself in from of Arthur to prevent Gilbert from being able to reach the smaller blonde. He sent a glare in Gilbert’s direction that made the other back off slightly giving Alfred more room to judge the situation. Both of them were without weapons and one of these men had a craving for Alfred's blood to be spilt on the floor. Alfred wasn’t quite sure what they meant by Arthur being a person of interest but it spelt more trouble for the two of them. “Touch him and see what happens.” Alfred threatened not caring that the threat would only egg them on. 

“Oh? And what are you going to do?” Antonio questioned a devious smile growing on his face. “Nothing. You’re going to watch him die like you have all your other boy toys in the past. I’m never going to let you forget the pain you caused me. You are going to relive that pain every time I see you with a new companion for the rest of your life, and there is nothing you can do about it.”

Alfred winced at the mention of his past short affairs since everything had gone to hell. Some of them were merely friends and others held a more important place in Alfred's heart, but he wasn’t going to let that happen to Arthur. No, this time he was going to save him even if it meant Alfred's own life.

Arthur had enough of his life being talked about so carelessly. "Let me see Francis," he seethed through his teeth. His jaw hurt from clenching it. He stood up and closed in on Gilbert threateningly. The albino showed only bored affect by the civilian's attempt at intimidation. Arthur had no interest in dealing with Antonio-- clearly there was something very wrong with him. Whoever he lost took his heart with him. 

"Whatever. If I remember to do it." Gilbert monitored his friend from the corner of his eye. He was wary of whatever the Spaniard would do. Antonio's obsession about Lovino's death concerned him as a friend, but he wasn't too concerned because he never imagined Alfred would end up in their custody. Now that the long-awaited circumstances presented itself, he didn't know how far gone Antonio was to put his threats into actions. 

"C'mon, Toni. Let's go talk to Francis." Gilbert grasped the inside of his friend's elbow and pulled him away.

Alfred kept a defiant look upon his face until the two were out of sight, his expression soon turned panicked as he rattled off possibilities for escape in his head none of which had greater than ten percent chance of success. “Don’t worry I’ll get us out of this.” Alfred said more to himself than anything, “I won’t let them hurt you.”

Arthur sat back down on his heels. "I'm more concerned about you." He shook his head. "Don't worry about me." They'll get through this. They had to. He'll talk (beat) some sense into Francis. He didn't know what the apocalypse did to his old friend, but there had to be some decency left in him. "We don't know where we are. That's a good thing. They know we're unable to return with reinforcements." 

He wished he could do more for Alfred. The self-torment was wracking Alfred's brain; Arthur could see it. It was the same haunted look back at the camp, and Arthur wished he had the nerve to hug him like before. But, during the short time they traveled together, Arthur was growing affectionate towards the man. Even if he didn't mean it to be, any comfort he could offer Alfred was problematic to the platonic dynamic of their companionship. Antonio mentioned that Alfred had lovers, but it didn't mean he'd like someone as green and insufficient as him.

So, Arthur curled up in the corner like he usually did. He laid his forehead on his bent knees and closed his eyes. He was tired and thirsty and hungry-- nothing new, but for the first time since he met the ex-soldier he was unbearably lonely.

“I’m fine. Fine.” Alfred tried to calm himself but internally his panic kept rising nothing played out well in his head they were both going to die and Arthur didn’t seem to see that. For a brief moment Alfred looked up and noticed Arthur in the corner, his thinking skidded to a halt as he took in the image of Arthur curled in on himself. Alfred sighed and slowly got himself up to go sit by Arthur, he sat right beside the younger male their arms touching. 

“Hey we’re going to get out of this somehow.” Alfred tried to comfort Arthur not fully knowing or understanding what was going through the other’s head. “You can talk to me you know or ask questions. I’m sure after what you heard you have a bunch.”

"I do." Arthur turned to look at him. Against his better judgment, he asked. "What was that about? What happened to that bastard's boyfriend?" It was a selfish question that only served Arthur's interests. But Alfred asked, and Arthur wanted to know. There were so many mysterious to this man. And First Lieutenant? Arthur couldn't believe it.

Alfred sighed figuring this would be the first thing the Brit asked, “I’m not quite sure where to start but I guess the beginning is a good place.” He began, Alfred sat there for a few moments before he started to divulge his tale. “We were in the middle of an easy scouting mission, one of those you go out and you come back in the matter of a few hours, but everything turned sour when we walked into a mine field. Lovino, Antonio’s dead lover, stepped on a mine and once he heard the arming click he froze where he stood crying out to alert us of the danger we were in. I had no choice, but to abandon him as enemy snipers began to fire at us. Lovino demanded that I take off with the rest of the men because there was no way we would all get out of it alive if we stayed to try and rescue Lovino. I didn't want to leave any of my men behind. I had no choice but to leave him behind as my men kept on taking bullets while waiting for their unit leader's commands. Of course Antonio only heard the bad parts of the story spread around and people made it seem like I coldheartedly abandoned Lovino.” Alfred sighed and hung his head feeling the same guilt wash over him that came with every time he reminisced on the past. “I can’t really blame the man for pointing the finger at me that's all Antonio has ever known. I killed the love of his life and he wants revenge.”

An eyebrow quirked up his brow. "Would you have blamed him?" He shook his head before Alfred could answer. "Of course you were blamed. You led the mission. But, it doesn't mean you made the wrong decision. I guess what I'm trying to say is, you chose the lesser evil. Which is more than anyone could have done. Alfred, look at me." Arthur touched their foreheads together so their eyes met, his glossy with tears. "Stop blaming yourself for his death, for your friends and lovers' deaths. They died, and you lived. Are you going to waste the life they couldn't enjoy?"

“How? How can I do anything but waste it? I have no point of being here my presence only brings death. I’m like a black cat any path is cross is bound to meet with misfortune. The least I can do is save you and then disappear so this doesn’t happen again.” Alfred moved his head to look away not wanting to face Arthur in his moment of weakness, admitting the dark thoughts that plagued his mind constantly. One of the many reasons he could barely sleep anymore. Alfred gently huffed a silent laugh as he realized sleep had screwed everything up and led them to this situation, he shouldn’t have slept. He didn’t deserve to sleep, not when there were others who needed to be saved.

"Don't be dramatic." Arthur pouting face bordered on sour. "Did you hear a word I said, you git?" He groaned and pulled Alfred back by his collar. "Don't squirm away. Promise me you won't end up with a bullet in your head!" He desperately shook Alfred's shoulders. "I'll be honest; I care for you very much, but you're the only one who gives a damn about me. I don't want to lose the one real human connection I've had in years." Arthur dropped his head, ashamed of his tears, of his weakness. It was weak to rely on others. Humans should only need water, food, and sleep. Not a comforting hug or a kind smile like Arthur ached for so long. 

"How do you live on? How do you survive after so much death? You're so strong to lose your lover, mourn, and get back up again." Alfred was resilient, but everyone had their breaking point. Arthur swore he wouldn't let it happen with him.

Alfred stared at Arthur his expression muddled with confusion. Strong? He wasn’t strong he was so very weak he couldn’t even manage to protect the things he loved. He felt numb, after the first time Alfred's spirit fractured and it just kept splintering off bit by bit with every death he encountered. So much death. He had lost so much and gained nothing in turn. The new world stole anything he loved, anything he held dear. No, he was not strong he was lucky that’s all he was; lucky to have lived this long, lucky to have had the chance to meet every person that crossed his path. And in turn he stole everyone else’s luck from them leaving them to die while begging for Alfred's help. Alfred bowed his head as much as he could with Arthur holding him up by his collar and nearly whispered, “Pure dumb luck.”

Alfred's answer seemed to suck all the life out of Arthur. His fists unfurled and dropped in his lap. His chest shuttered as he drew in shivering breaths that barely filled his lungs. He was still crying, the kind of tears after when one exhausted themselves out but the sadness remained. Alfred's pain was his pain. But, Arthur also cried for himself. He had lost his brothers no more than a month ago, and his ongoing survival since then confirmed his brother's sagacity that he was useless on his own. After raiders overran the school, Arthur was constantly on the running fearing his own shadow. Unless one was an exceptional survivalist, sole scavengers didn't last long. 

"Pure dumb luck, huh?" He sniffled. Arthur was the lucky one to have found Alfred. Arthur slumped his head against Alfred, resting his forehead in the crook of Alfred's neck. And, despite himself, he smiled. "You're an idiot, you know that?" The phony polite coughing of someone else in the room snapped Arthur to attention; he looked up to see the face of his old friend smiling back down at him. 

"How cute," he cooed. "I wish I had my camera." Arthur quickly wiped his face which only made Francis smile wider. The Frenchman shifted on his feet and hiked up the shotgun propped lazily against his shoulder. "Let's go, Arthur. I haven't got all day." Arthur nodded and stood. As the civilian went towards the door, Francis made a wide berth so that both men were in his firing range. He looked at the window view in the door and nodded. Gilbert, armed with a magnum, opened the door and boredly stepped back for Arthur. 

Before Arthur stepped outside, he turned to Francis. "Swear to me that Alfred won't get hurt when I'm gone." Francis showed no affect and only pushed Arthur completely out the door. "HEY!" Arthur stumbled and caught himself. "Francis!!" Shotgun or no, Arthur was ready to kick in that frog face of his. 

"The sooner we talk the sooner you can return to lover boy. Do you understand?" Arthur hesitated but nodded reluctantly. With an approving nod, Francis led them away from the underground storage rooms to the main living area across the facility.

Alfred watched them go, knowing he could do nothing to stop Francis from taking Arthur out of the room. He silently prayed that Arthur was right and Francis wasn’t as bad a guy as he seemed, but it was hard to trust anyone who was friends with Antonio. Alfred heard some silent bickering outside the door a few minutes after Arthur left, he tried to strain to hear it but it was too fast and in a language he didn’t understand. As the conversation slowed down Alfred begun to let his mind wonder back to Arthur and the danger he was most likely in, but startled out of it when the door slammed open.

“Listen here Jones.” Antonio hissed in scorn, “Francis has decided to let your boy toy live for awhile longer, but you know what that means? It means I don’t get to enjoy the pained look on your face as I kill him.” Antonio’s expression changed from enraged to a malicious grin as he strolled up to Alfred. “So I have a better idea. Instead of killing your little friend, I’m going to beat the life out of you with my bare hands and enjoy every minute of it.”

The momentary relief that came from knowing Arthur was safe quickly diminished as Antonio continued speaking. Alfred looked toward the door that had been left open hoping someone would come in and stop the crazed Spaniard, but the small opening of the door revealed Gilbert passed out on the floor a slight trickle of blood flowing from his forehead. 

“Look Antonio I know you’re mad at me but come on let’s put this behind us.” Alfred pulled his hands apart rattling the chain on his handcuffs as he did so, he silently curse under his breath that he didn’t fight more when they locked them behind his back. “If I could have, I would have rescued Lovino but he told me to go. I had no choice but to save the lives of as many men as I could and still respect Lovino’s wishes.”

“You think that’s all this is about anymore? Ha! Think again Jones. I just want to watch every light fade from your eyes until you die and have the chance to go apologize in person. I want to feel your blood spilt on my hands as you beg me for mercy. I want you to atone for every wrong you have ever done to those around you as you watched them die without even lifting a finger to help them.” Antonio slowly shook his head back and forth. “No Jones this isn’t about Lovino anymore this is about the terrible curse of a human being you are and doing the world a favor by ridding it of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here’s the next chapter I hope you guys enjoyed it. Sorry it’s a bit shorter than normal. Rates and reviews are very much so appreciated. Thanks to all of you who have it make us very happy to see your enjoying the story. Until next time.


	5. Chapter 5

When they entered what looked to be an old mess room, Francis took off the cuffs. Arthur winced and wrung his wrists soothingly. He sat across from the Frenchman and gratefully took the glass of water he gave him. He finished the whole glass with a gasp, and Francis wordlessly refilled it. 

Francis then dumped a military field ration pack on the table, and Arthur inhaled that, too. He didn't realize how hungry he was until he started eating, and it was worth Francis' shit-eating grin if he could get a full stomach for once. Satiated at last, Arthur sighed contentedly and pushed the trash away. MREs tasted awful, but after living on a primary diet of cold canned food for years, it was heavenly.

Unlike most raiders who wore tire wheels for shoulder pads and the like, Francis' urban tribal ware was more realistic. Arthur noticed that he took off the bullet-proof vest designed with the tribe's colors and insignia, but still donned the shin and knee guards modernized with spikes. He could hardly believe Francis stooped to low as to become a raider, but at the same time it made sense. 

"Francis--" 

"Arthur." Arthur blinked as Francis regarded him morosely. He didn't like that look-- he wouldn't let whatever message came with that look to happen. 

"No. Listen to me, Francis." He shifted in his seat. "Do you really know how to be self-sufficient? What's going to happen when you run out of MREs, when you're surrounded by warring tribes that decide to just wait it out until you starve yourselves in here?" He was rushing into this without tactful priming, he knew, but he was desperate to pull this off and get back to Alfred. "I know how to farm, and I know everything a field medic should know. I even kept chickens at the place my brothers and I lived in." Francis choked back a guffaw that Arthur ignored. "I know how to maintain a facility as large as this because I've done it for years."

"Oh? What's the exchange?" Francis picked at his nails with a knife, appearing bored. But Arthur could tell he was interested. It was obvious that he and his crew lacked the manpower to defend a stronghold as golden as this. Honestly, it's a miracle they were safely holed up here. Arthur didn't even want to know what happened to the last residents.

"Let Alfred go." Francis rolled his eyes at the obvious answer. Arthur clenched his teeth so hard it hurt, and he seethed through his teeth. "Let him go! It's not his fault the dumbass stepped on a landmine!"

"Tell that to Toni. I keep things loosely organized, but personal matters are left to the persons involved." Arthur couldn't believe it. For all of Francis' familiar nonchalance, he would have never let innocent people suffer.

"Haha," Arthur laughed a little frantically. "You mean /wergeld/?" Francis nodded solemnly. 

A long silence passed. The steady tap-tapping of the knife point on the table filled the space words didn't fill. Arthur stared unseeingly at his former friend, all color flushed from his face. He didn't recognize this man anymore. 

Without any fair warning, Arthur abruptly stood up, knocking the chair back. Before Francis could get up, the civilian kicked the table, topsizing it and tumbling Francis to the floor. He kicked the knife out of his hand, and Francis yelped before clutching Arthur's ankle with surprising force. Arthur fell over on top of him while reaching for the knife. They grappled with each other for the knife, Arthur fighting like a caged cat with nails and teeth, as Francis cursed in French while trying to wrangle him up. Arthur yelled in pain when Francis pinned his lower back with his knee-- the spikes were unbearable, and Arthur realized they were rusted nails shredding his skin. The more he struggled the worse it got, and finally Arthur surrendered. All at once his body relaxed, became limp, as Francis held him down with Arthur's arm behind his back and Francis' knee digging into his body. Francis carefully lifted himself up, extracting the nails as cleanly as he could. Arthur sobbed, shuddering, as his blood pooled around him and spread. 

Francis clicked his tongue at Arthur like a mother hen. "What am I going to do with you?" He watched in half-pity Arthur lifting his hand achingly slow and pressing it to his back to stem the blood flow. He didn't move beyond that.

"I have decided to reject your offer, /rosbif/. I was going to let you go for old time's sake, but you're too dangerous." Francis began putting the furniture back in their place muttering in French. "I'm surprised a pipsqueak like you survived for this long. You lived with your brothers? Well, that explains it." He hummed while picking up the trash. "Still, if you can't point a gun for shit, you might have been a good housewife taking care of the home while the men are away--" He choked on the last words as a great gasp of pain filled his lungs. Arthur was holding him around the neck with one hand while the other lodged the knife in his back. It caught bone instead of flesh, and it took some laborious struggling to completely sheath the knife between his ribs. 

Arthur dropped Francis to the ground. He collapsed gracelessly in a mess of tangled limbs. The Frenchman's dead blue eyes made him dizzy, and he stumbled back into the wall to catch himself. He couldn't take his eyes away. He had killed a man. 

"Francis... what did you make me do," he sobbed with his hand against his mouth. No, he couldn't stay. He had to find Alfred. Arthur staggered to the corpse and took his pistol and clips. Looked like Arthur would have to get used to this "killing" business.

~~~

Alfred cried out in pain he’d lost count of how many blows he had taken, but everything hurt. Antonio picked Alfred up by the collar only to throw him against the wall and stumbling to the floor where he landed face first. Alfred had tried to put up a fight at first but his blows had held no spirit to them as though Alfred was simply going through the motions but making no effort to actually cause harm. As he rolled to his side to try and get away from Antonio, Alfred felt a swift kick dealt to his abdomen followed by many more in repetition. Antonio was yelling at him but he couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Everything was going black, but just as the peaceful pull of unconsciousness was about to pull him under Antonio dealt a sharp kick to Alfred's sternum leaving the other painfully gasping for air. He felt the pressure of Antonio’s boot digging into his chest making it hard to ever gasp for air. Alfred cried out as he both felt and heard the cracking and popping of his ribs as the pressure increased, breaking and stopping Alfred's near vain attempts to breathe. 

Suddenly it all stopped Alfred heard more shouting but wasn’t sure who or where the shouting was coming from it was so painful. Against the pull of blackness washed over him and Alfred gratefully accepted allowing his body the reprieve from the conscious pain that overwhelmed its senses.

"Get the hell away from him!!" 

Antonio spun around and found himself looking directly into the hollow of a gun barrel. Arthur slowly approached from the entrance way; when he saw Gilbert passed out in front he hoped it was Alfred's doing, but Antonio appeared to be much crazier than Arthur even imagined. 

When Arthur saw Alfred his heart jumped in his throat and hammered painfully in his windpipe. "You-- son of a--" Arthur re-aimed his gun at the Spaniard with murderous intent. "Give me one damn good reason why I shouldn't shoot your kneecaps and chain you outside." His finger shivered on the trigger, itching to pull it.

“Why?” The Spaniard parroted while cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Isn’t that obvious? I’m doing the world a favor by killing one of its rotten apples.” Antonio’s eyes grew crazed and his smile demonic in nature. “You should thank me. I saved you from a terrible death that he no doubt would have led you to if left to live. I’ve saved so many people from him. So many…” Antonio twirled around back to where Alfred lay unconscious dealing another swift kick to the side of the blonde’s head. “He looks so sweet, but really he’s death in disguise.”

"Touch him again and I'll shoot you where you stand," Arthur vowed. He stepped back, creating a wide perimeter as he nudged his gun in the direction of the door. "Go on." Arthur was going to lead Antonio out and handcuff him somewhere he wouldn't be a threat. Then he'd use Alfred's handcuffs to immobilize Gilbert, too.

“Will you now?” Antonio gave Arthur one last crazed look before swiftly kicking Alfred with all the strength he could muster. Deciding if that was the moment he was going to die he might as well go out with a bang.

"I said stop!!" Arthur thrust the gun forward again, desperately trying to intimidate him by reasserting his capability. He silently begged Antonio to stop. He didn't want to shoot another human being. But when Antonio turned again to kick, Arthur pulled the trigger. Blood exploded on the wall as the bullet exited out of the side of the Spaniard's head. Arthur's eyes were clenched tight and only heard the solid collapse of dead weight to the ground. Slowly, he opened his eyes. It wasn't like the movies. The gunshot did not send Antonio reeling backward; instead he dropped in a heap where he stood. 

Arthur dropped the gun and pulled Alfred away before the blood could spread. It was agonizing with his wound and he almost slipped on his own blood. With laborious heaves he dragged Alfred away by the arms. He used the wall's support to ease him down to Alfred's level. 

He checked Alfred's pulse and sighed in relief. "Alfred, wake up." The civilian gently smacked Alfred's cheek. Judging by the trauma to Alfred's head, he wanted Alfred awake if he had a concussion.

Alfred lay there unmoving his breathing shallow as it slowly wheezed in and out, not even Arthur smacking his face could stir him from unconsciousness. His nose was likely broken as it was already growing bright red and blood flowed freely from his nostrils down his cheek. His lip was split and would likely need to be stitched together however crude the procedure may be without the proper tools. His eyes were growing purplish in color and swelling shut the right being worse off than the left. Alfred's body was in no better shape, his ribs were likely cracked from repeated kicks to his sternum. His body would be covered in dark, painful bruises and judging by the way his arm bent at an unnatural angle his elbow was likely dislocated. Antonio had attacked with the intention to kill and had Arthur not shown up when he did Antonio would have succeeded.

Alfred wouldn't wake up. Arthur tried again and again and didn't give up for several minutes. He cursed and pulled back, at a loss of what to do.

He had no choice but to take the next step and find first aid. But before that he had to ensure that Alfred's injuries weren't life-threatening. He listened closely to Alfred's breathing and heartbeat, and he was relieved to discover that Alfred was not bleeding internally. Arthur laughed breathlessly and kissed Alfred's forehead. Thank god. 

He unlocked Alfred's handcuffs with Francis' key. Using the wall to raise himself up inch by painful inch, the civilian labored under his own weight as he found himself seeing double just by standing up. The rust of Francis' spiked armor was toxifying his body. A smear of blood trailed in Arthur's wake as he used the wall to guide himself out. 

Gilbert still was out cold. The Briton handcuffed the albino to the pipes lining the walls before searching for the first aid. Arthur didn't doubt the facility had almost everything one would need for self-sustenance, but it was overbearingly large. Arthur's shredded skin made any movement problematic, and his clothes were soaked with blood and were difficult to move. It took too long to collect everything he needed, and by the time he got back the civilian worried he was going to pass out before he treated Alfred. 

Arthur immediately administered a tetanus shot to himself and rolled up several layers of gauze around his back. It was a half-assed job he needed to get out of the way before Alfred could be attended to. 

"Should I wait for you to wake up to set your elbow?" He wondered as he crouched down again. He used scissors to cut Alfred's shirt away starting from the bottom hem up to the collar. It was difficult to look at Alfred's torso. The ex-soldier had undoubtedly suffered fractures to his ribs. He worried that a flail chest wouldn't hold its shape when the ex-soldier breathed. It was imperative that his lungs didn't press against the splintered bones and puncture the tissue. There wasn't much Arthur could do about the ribs; binding them was out of the question, even if it did ease the pain. Alfred had to be able to breathe deeply to avoid pneumonia.

Arthur felt safe laying Alfred down. He turned Alfred on his uninjured side to allow him to take deeper breaths. Now, to the elbow.

Arthur had never re-set a dislocated elbow before, though he had his fair experience of dislocated shoulders. Setting the elbow was trickier, but the methodology was the same. When he rotated it back into its socket, Alfred's elbow immediately looked better. He fished up by wrapping his entire arm in a splint. 

Arthur gave up on stitches. His hands were shaking too much, and his thinking was cloudy. The most Arthur could do was dump antiseptic on his wound and cringe through the pain. Alfred would need to peel out the rust and residual matter from Francis' armor when he woke up. 

Finally after Alfred's major injuries were attended to, Arthur allowed himself to rest. He carefully lay down with Alfred, and he watched his sleeping face. He saw the man beyond the swelling and bruising and abrasions. Arthur knew there was something about Alfred that made him greater than any other human he had met on the wastes, and he had a feeling that there would never be anyone like Alfred again. Arthur wanted Alfred and his goodness preserved here on earth for as long as his natural life allowed it. Arthur knew he could live with the evils of the wastes if Alfred was there to remind him that there were things worth surviving for. 

Arthur gently cupped his hand over the back of Alfred's hand. Their hands joined between them, the civilian closed his eyes and fell into a soulful, deep rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Posting this right as it’s almost Thursday whoops. Anyways hope you enjoyed and as always rates and reviews are much appreciated! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed thus far! Until next time.


	6. Chapter 6

Pain that’s all Alfred could register upon waking the next day. Every breath he took caused searing agony to fly through his chest, any minute movement of his muscles left him wincing in pain which only brought on further agony. Alfred gasped out when he felt someone touching his shoulder pain radiated from his elbow at the small movements. Sleep that’s what he wanted but the voice kept yelling at him. Why was it yelling? Alfred's head was throbbing from the grating noise he just wanted it to stop just for a little bit just until the pain went away.

The next day, Gilbert regained consciousness. Arthur moved him to the dorms and fed him, but he didn't remove the handcuffs. He was just returning for his hourly check on Alfred when he discovered the man was waking up.

Arthur rushed to his side. Everything was prepared for Alfred, and Arthur already knew what he was going to do. He spoke to Alfred gently but firmly. "I'm going to roll you on your back so it's easier for me to administer the morphine." Alfred gasped when he touched his shoulder. Arthur winced in sympathy when the ex-soldier obviously struggled to reign in his voice as he carefully turned him on his back. He then strapped his shoelace around Alfred's upper arm and ripped the needle from the sterile packaging. With the needle he pulled out the morphine and squeezed out the air. Tapping the vein to bring it up, Arthur quickly and efficiently administering the shot. Arthur sighed in relief when it was over, glad to have deadened the pain for a while. 

Arthur pushed the sweaty bangs from his face. He could have used pills, but he wanted to bring Alfred instant relief. "Better?"

As the pain in his body numbed slightly Alfred gently hummed in appreciation enjoying the gentle touch on his forehead as Arthur swept his bangs out of his face. He still found it hard to breathe deeply as some of the pain still lingered in his chest, but it was nothing like the agonizing pain he felt upon first waking. “What happened?” Alfred winced as he spoke the sudden use of his voice causing his chest to constrict slightly.

Arthur bandaged up the small puncture. "Francis and Antonio are dead. Gilbert is locked up in the dorms." Arthur vaguely thought that he should feel remorse, but he didn't. He felt nothing. It was a hollow space that grew wider and wider with each passing day. Only Alfred mattered to him now.

"Focus on getting better for me. When you're fully awake, I need you to help me with my back." Alfred was already stitched up, but unless Arthur grew eyes in the back of his head, he couldn't tend to himself. He used a hand mirror and tweezed out the rust bits, but there was no way he could glue the skin tissue shut without assistance. 

They were safe for now, but it wouldn't be long until rival gangs sensed something was wrong and "investigated." If only they could hold out for a month or two... Alfred's ribs and elbow would recover. Then, they could continue on this mad journey.

Alfred frowned for a moment before relaxing his face back to a painless state. “Dead?” Alfred asked his mind hazy from pain and drugs it took him a moment to fully register that Arthur had mentioned his back was hurt. “You’re injured? Shit I’ll help-” Alfred moved to sit up but his body quickly rejected the notion forcing him to lie back down on the cold hard ground and break into a coughing fit. 

"Idiot." Arthur just shook his head at Alfred's coughing fit. He purposefully ignored the first question. "The bleeding's stopped and I took something to relieve the pain." That was the end of the discussion about his back. He picked up something and brought it into Alfred's view. "Here's an alarm clock so you can keep track of time and your schedule of meds. I also brought some books. I don't know what you like, so I just got things I personally like." He patted the stack of worn books next to Alfred. He gestured to the other things he prepared. "Here's water and MREs. Take two of these pills every four hours. Oh, and call me when you need to use the latrine in the courtyard so I can help you stand." Everything was within arm's reach for Alfred's convenience. Arthur provided medical relief and usually assisted in the healing process, too, but he never went this far with anyone. Alfred didn't need to know that, though. 

Arthur looked at Alfred, his face dusted pink. "Is there something else you need?"

“A bed with a feathered pillow, a cup of homemade chicken noodle soup, and a kiss to make it all better.” Alfred lightly joked as his coughing eased. He pulled up the blanket, which had fallen when he tried to sit up, with his good arm. He tried to relax but could find no really comfort in the hard floor beneath him. He sighed for a moment knowing he should be grateful he was still alive to even be able to complain, at least mentally, about the floor. 

A flood of red hues filled the civilian's cheeks, and he had to duck his face out of view. He knew Alfred was joking about kissing, but mentioning it in even the most abstract way made Arthur pitifully yearn for it. 

"Tragically, Alfred, you'll just have to make do with cotton pillows and Cambell's." Arthur hesitated, wondering why the hell he was going through with this. "The kiss, though, I can abide." He leaned on his hands and pecked Alfred's chest over his heart. It was feather-light, a simply brush of warm dry lips over skin. He hopped to his feet. "Like I said, call me when you need to use the bathroom," he called out from behind him as he hastily left the room. 

A high color remained on his cheeks a long time after. Because he was alone he could smile shyly to himself. He knew his feelings were unrequited, but that was okay. After only a few days travelling with the ex-soldier Arthur became attached to him. Very much so. It grew from an admiration of the man's resilience and strength, but even as he watched the ex-soldier break down and show his human fragility, Arthur loved him even more. 

That's why he wanted Alfred to get better. The ex-soldier's bright sarcasm was a good sign. Even if he did only have cheap pillows, canned soup, and a kiss from someone he didn't love. 

Arthur fixed his face into neutrality as he stepped into Gilbert's room. The albino was picking plaster from the walls, bored out of his mind. While his dominant hand was chained to the radiator, his left hand was free. Arthur just wanted to keep him under his eye. 

"The fuck you want, limey faggot?" 

"Is the pickup truck operable? Alfred and I are leaving." Arthur let the pejorative slide. Gilbert snorted and poked more debris out of the hole he made. It crumbled onto the linens of the cot he sat in. Arthur waited, but when it was clear that Gilbert had no intention of deigning the man with any more of his attention, the civilian marched up to him and banged the metal rods of the cot with the heel of his foot. The force rattled up his back, but he ignored it.

"Don't fuck with me! Do you want me to put you in that sick little interrogation room I found? Hm?" The albino's red eyes flared up in alarm. "D-don't think I'm not capable of it! Your bastard friends gave me no choice..." Arthur voice hitched on the last, unexpectedly slammed with the remembrance of yesterday. In his mind's eye, the memory of Francis' high school face eclipsed over the dead raider's face, now rotting in the courtyard because he was too weak to dig their grave. Arthur paused to breathe deeply and reign in his composure. He heard Gilbert snort. 

"Oh, shut the fuck up. You want me to feel /sorry/ for you murdering my friends?" Gilbert sneered in unbridled disdain. His wrath was unrestrained yet had no means to egress. He was bound to the god damn radiator. Well, not for long. "And you plan to steal my shit? Fuck you."

"You stole /our/ things. Not to mention abducted us! This shouldn't have even happened." Arthur winced as he gingerly daubed his back with his fingers. Gilbert watched on expressionlessly. "We can't resume on foot with the state Alfred is in. You know that."

Arthur waited. Gilbert held out. Minutes passed, and Arthur continued staring, pleading at Gilbert to make this easier on the both of them. But Gilbert didn't grant him that, instead continued picking at the wall.

"Aren't you going to put me in the room?"

Arthur threw his hands up in surrender. "I give up. I'll figure it out myself. But it's true, you know. Francis was my friend in high school. He used to be so vibrant, obnoxiously so. Like a peacock. He found sexual innuendos in absolutely everything, and sometimes he pissed me off so much I could hardly think straight. He bragged about his sexual conquests but never gave the names of the girls or guys to keep their reputations. But, he was there for me when I came out. He was my friend. He was... my best friend."

Arthur heaved a sigh that seemed to have come from the bottom of his feet. He turned to leave, but before he passed the doorway, Gilbert called out.

"Toni just fixed her up. She only needs fuel."

Arthur paused and looked back, but Gilbert had not turned his head nor given any sign of acknowledgement to the civilian. Arthur regarded him for a long moment. Then he left.

~

Alfred lay awake for a long while after Arthur left trying to figure out if Arthur was joking around with him when Arthur kissed his chest or if the Brit was implying something more. After running it through his head a few times all he had managed to do was rile up his headache, so he decided to let it go until he had the chance to ask Arthur himself. He heard slightly raised voices echo throughout the base but couldn’t make out what they were saying so he chose to ignore them deciding sleep was more important to him than facts Arthur would just inform him of later on anyways.

Alfred yawned slightly grunting and wincing at the pain in his chest when it expanded it wasn’t as bad as before but it still hurt. He let his mind wonder as he slowly began to fall back asleep, briefly he recalled Arthur saying something about Antonio and Francis being dead but he never got to ask Arthur to expand on that topic. Another thing to ask when he woke up, he yawned again the medication making him even more drowsy than simply his injuries could. Slowly Alfred succumbed to the pull of sleep deciding healing was more important than unanswered questions at the moment.

It was hours before daybreak when Arthur woke Alfred. He squeezed Alfred's uninjured arm. "Hey," he greeted gently as Alfred's consciousness swam to the murky surface of opiate-addled inebriation. "I'm taking you to the "VIP room." I prepped it up all nice for you." There was an ironic, humorous lilt to his voice. His lips were twisted in a mirthless smirk. "Up, you heavy loaf." Arthur bent low behind him and eased Alfred forward as the ex-soldier curled into a sitting position. Arthur then pulled him to stand, hefting him by the waistline of his pants so as not to strain Alfred's core and arms as much. 

"Hope you don't mind... I didn't get a stretcher for you." The makeshift one he used to pull Francis and Antonio out into the courtyard was left with their bodies. Arthur wasn't about to use that one and had no time to construct one more. He slung Alfred's uninjured arm across his lean shoulders and fisted Alfred's waistline again. With slow, measured steps they waddled out of the storage room. The civilian did the best he could, but unfortunately, Alfred had no other choice but to lean on his injured ankle. 

Smears of bloody hand prints striped the hallway where Arthur first stumbled out in his dogged search for medical aid. Full-sized stains of gore dripped and puddled where Arthur had rested before continuing again. They turned the corner and staggered down several halls. Arthur handled Alfred like glass, stopping every so often for Alfred to catch his breath or lean completely on him if needed. By the time they entered the manager's office Arthur was shaking with exertion. Outside the door was a wheelbarrow.

It was a proper office with a lock and key that Arthur dragged a mattress in. It was near a one-way exit, so he thought it was the safest place to go. He draped Alfred onto the mattress with blankets and pillows--still cotton. He leaned Alfred up against the wall before practically collapsing on his knees. He sat back on his heels and caught his breath. "Whew. Okay. There's a bathroom behind that door with a working toilet and amenities. Be careful getting to it." Water and food was restocked on the stool doubling as a bedside table. The food cans were already opened and covered with plastic wrapping. Same with the water. Everything looked like it would last for several days. Despite his feelings on raiders, Arthur had to hand it to Francis' gang for their thoroughness. 

Arthur pulled out the first aid and took out a bottle of sterile super glue. He stared at it warily, then handed it to Alfred. "Put this on the cuts." He unbuttoned his shirt and flipped it onto the ground. The back was covered in dried blood. 

His undershirt was next. With shaking hands Arthur hooked his fingers under the hem at the back and peeled it up. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip as the wounds that dried against the fabric ripped open again. He'd never get used to the hot sensations of blood soaking his trousers and boxers. While Alfred rested for the past few days, Arthur planned for his trip. He couldn't waste time minding his wounds as he rushed to prepare the necessary things, and they opened several times. When that happened he slapped on another bandage and went on, but the result of his carelessness tore his wounds. It was especially bad when he climbed to roof to survey their location with binoculars. 

Arthur lowered his head so Alfred couldn't see his agonized face. He didn't want to look weak in front of the man, but he was in too much pain to care about the whine slipping past his lips as a particularly gruesome cut tore. "God, this hurts..." He broke into an icy sweat. After what felt like forever, the civilian finally flipped the collar over his head chucked it away. He panted and wiped away a few unshed tears rimming his eyes.

Arthur sat up on the bed. He took the undershirt and compressed the wounds. They would have to wait for the bleeding to ebb before Alfred could do anything.

Alfred watched helplessly as Arthur slowly removed his shirt, he could see trickles of blood flowing down the Brit’s back as the wounds were reopened from the scabs being ripped off. Once a few of the bloody wounds were visible Alfred could tell they were inflamed and slightly infected the skin around each puncture was a bright red and a few had signs of pus build up. Ignoring his pain Alfred spoke up, “These are infected. I’m fine Arthur I could have handled helping you with your wounds before they became infected.” Alfred winced as his chest began to throb, each wave bringing searing pain. “I hope they have antibiotic ointment otherwise we’re going to have to find some alcohol to clean out these wounds.”

Fifteen minutes passed and Arthur deemed it safe to relieve the wounds from the pressure. He nodded reassuringly at Alfred, touched but reminding himself that Alfred was just being Alfred. "It can't be helped. Frankly, you'd be more of a burden if you overexert yourself. Anyway, here's the rubbing alcohol. Be sparing; there's only half left." He handed that and cotton balls to Alfred. "And for me." Arthur took out the whiskey bottle he nursed on all day to numb the pain. He drained the last mouthfuls, gasping as he finished it and tossed it to the side. 

Alfred sterilized his wounds and patted them dry. Arthur directed him to guide Arthur's sterilized hands to the wounds. As Arthur held the skin apart, Alfred squeezed the glue inside. Arthur pushed the wound shut and gritted his teeth through the immense pain he underestimated feeling. Arthur held it there until it stuck. They did this with every cut. When it was over, Arthur checked it with a hand mirror and then bandaged it up. 

"Th-thanks." He pulled out the gun held in his waistband and deposited it with two clips on the stool. It was Francis'. "I'm going out for a few days. I'll come back." He wanted to promise Alfred, but he'd already known so many who promised and never returned. His brothers weren't the only ones whom he lived with for 6 years.

Francis mentioned in his journals of finding a gas station a day or two west of here. If Arthur could siphon the gas and use it to fuel the pickup truck, they could leave without waiting for Alfred to recover. 

Arthur threw the shirt back on not bothering on buttoning it. He picked up a loaded shotgun in the corner and pocketed extra shells. Everything else he needed was in the wheelbarrow outside, including the empty red jerry cans. He turned to Alfred.

Alfred looked at Arthur lost and confused. “Why do you have to leave? W-Why can’t we just wait here till we’re healed?” He didn’t want to admit it but he was scared. Arthur was telling him the same thing he heard a thousand times before someone abandoned or died on him. “We have more than enough supplies. Let’s just stay here it’s safer.”

Arthur didn't want to give Alfred much information for fear that Alfred would talk him out of it. He took Alfred's fear for concern for Arthur, and as well-meaning as it seemed, it made Arthur defensive. "No, this place is-- well, it's a goldmine of resources, if you couldn't bloody tell. The 'Bad Touch Trio', as the raiders so stupidly called themselves, have an even better holdout than my brothers did. I bet the neighboring tribes are just salivating over it." Arthur checked the safety on the shotgun and hiked it over his shoulder. "There's a pickup truck we can drive to Haven. All we need is fuel, and that's just what I'm getting." Arthur opened the door and looked back regretfully. "I... I wish I could do more for you. I know I'm just a kid to you, but you... well, it doesn't matter." He took one look back just to memorize Alfred's face. Then he closed the door, locked it, and slipped the key under the door. Alfred could hear the rusty squeak of the wheelbarrow as it drifted away.

Alfred yelled after Arthur for as long as his body would let him eventually the pain in his chest became unbearable and he had to stop. If it wasn’t for his injuries he would have stopped Arthur from leaving, but now he couldn’t and Arthur was most likely gone for good. The pain and exhaustion caused him to collapse back onto the bed he fought weakly to stay awake but blackness soon took over his mind and he fell into a deep fitful sleep.

When Alfred awoke that evening his stomach grumbled at him in hungry protest, the pain in his body was worse than when he fell asleep as he didn’t have Arthur to administer morphine to him upon awakening. He tried to sit up and reach for any form of food or pain relief but every movement sent jolting agony up his body. Alfred both felt his heart drop and stomach rise into his throat as he heard the door opening. Looking up he saw the albino raider standing in the doorway and Alfred knew he was a dead man.

The raider clucked his tongue a few times before speaking, “Toni sure did a number on you didn’t he? Well since little blondie is gone for awhile I might as well help take care of you, I’m just awesome like that.” Gilbert went over and grabbed the medical case that was placed near Alfred's mattress, he quickly fished out the vial of morphine and using one of the few syringes left drew out the medication. “Hold out your arm dude.” Alfred obeyed the command if only to receive the blissful effects the medication washed over his injured body.

Gilbert was swift and quickly wrapped a tourniquet on, cleaned, and injected Alfred with the medication at a pace one would expect from an emergency room. “Thanks.” Alfred said as the pain began to slowly ebb away still not sure why the raider was being so kind to him.

“No problem dude. Now get some shut eye while I get us some grub okay?” Gilbert turned and began to get to work on preparing a meager meal for the two of them. Alfred decided it would be best to follow the albino’s advice as there wasn’t much he could do in his injured state but sleep. 

Their time together over the next few days continued like this and Alfred gradually grew fond of the albino’s happy-go-lucky nature but it didn’t stop him from missing Arthur. It had been nearly a week since Arthur left and still no sign of him, Alfred could tell that even Gilbert was getting anxious. There was nothing he could do but wait and it infuriated him to no end but the sooner he got better the sooner he could go and discover what had become of his companion.

~~~

The gas station was incinerated. Arthur couldn't tell when it happened or how it happened. It could have been a dispute, an act of carelessness, or even vindictive cruelty. The explosion spread across the rows of cars in the vicinity. Even the RVs were burned down to their frames. Parking the wheelbarrow by the undamaged cars, Arthur slowly pulled out a jerry can and a hose. He prayed there was still fuel left 

There wasn't. Others before Arthur had already siphoned the tanks dry. Arthur spent the entire day fruitlessly searching, losing more hope as each car yielded either nothing or hardly a cup full of gasoline. At the end of the day, Arthur had less than quarter tank to speak of-- three gallons. He almost didn't feel like climbing to the roof to hide come nightfall.

Arthur took his time returning. He didn't know why he took the gas. On the last day when the bunker appeared into view, his heart sank. 

Arthur returned. He didn't go to Alfred like he would have. He imagined himself returning victorious and Alfred groveling before him (not really). Instead, he washed up and changed his clothes. Then he ate. He just was about to check up on Gilbert when Gilbert found /him/. As Arthur finished his third can of peaches and drank the syrup, the shocking mop of white hair and red eyes appeared around the corner. "I see you've finally returned. We missed you."

Arthur spun around and gaped at the raider he left imprisoned in the ward. "Wh-what--"

"Don't underestimate the awesome me." Gilbert flipped the kitchen knife he swiped off the counter as he approached the civilian. 

"Where's Alfred?! What did you do to him?!"

"What if I said he's in better shape than when you left him?" Gilbert cackled at his horrified expression. "Relax. He's sleeping in his room." Arthur sighed in relief, but didn't forget he had a knife in his hand.

"...what are you doing with that knife?" Arthur asked warily as the light from the window sparked off the stainless steel. Gilbert released his odd laugh again.

"I was going to make some lunch. Scoot over." Arthur deftly side-stepped out of range as Gilbert grabbed the MREs behind him. He tore it open with the knife. "Put that gun away, I decided not to kill you. So, how'd the gas job go?"

Arthur started, the handgun he un-holstered from his waistband freezing halfway. He cautiously saddled it again. "Miserably," Arthur confessed helplessly. "Is there nothing here I could use?"

"Not a damn thing." Gilbert chowed down his food. Arthur waited for Gilbert to elaborate, but when he didn't, the civilian took his leave. Checked back now and then to make sure he wasn't followed, he decided he might as well face Alfred. Better now rather than later. 

The door was open. Arthur carefully stepped in, not wanting to wake Alfred if he was asleep, "Alfred? I'm back."

Alfred slowly blinked open his eyes and looked around confused from his half asleep state. “Arthur?” He sounded groggy as one often does upon awaking, but he quickly woke up as his brain began to register who stood in the door way. “Arthur! You’re back! Are you okay?” Alfred sat up with some trouble but was still better than the last time Arthur had seen him. His lip was ready to have the stitches removed as the skin had healed together well and his bruises had begun to grow dark as they often do before they heal. “How’s your back? Is it any better?” Alfred continued asking questions not stopping to let Arthur answer until his chest began to hurt him.

"Wait just a bloody moment!" Arthur was forced to hold Alfred down. He missed him. The urge to touch Alfred was so great he bunched his fist in his trouser leg to restrain himself.

Embarking alone on an assignment was a first for him, and he was scared shitless. What pulled him through the first half was the reminder that Alfred was waiting for him. The same couldn't be said on the return journey home.

"I'm fine... that's not important. Alfred, I'm so sorry." Arthur leaned forwards on his knees and impressed with his eyes the words that could never be enough. "I couldn't get the gas." Arthur sniffled and dashed away the first few tears he was holding back until he was alone. "Sorry." He apologized for the crying, too. 

His brothers would have thought of something, Arthur knew. As much as he hated them, when things got heated they always escaped by the skin of their teeth. But, they were right all along; he was useless. Arthur never had the chance to prove his worth before, but now that he failed, he knew it was true. It crushed him. 

"I'm not giving up. I'll think of something." The tears were finally cleared from Arthur's face, and the civilian breathed a deep, fortifying breath. He sniffed and rubbed under his nose again. "How are you feeling? Are you taking deep breaths every hour like I told you to?" The plums and blacks of his bruises faded to a sickly jaundice, but that was hopeful. Arthur was pleased to see the sutures closed up and weren't infected. He disinfected his hands and went to work on removing them.

Alfred made a guilty grumbling sound in his throat but didn’t verbally respond to prevent Arthur from nicking him as the Brit quickly removed the stitches on his lip. It felt nice to have Arthur back, Gilbert had taken care of him and made sure he was comfortable while he was healing, but it wasn’t the same without Arthur. Alfred didn’t want to admit it even to himself but he had grown attached to the other in the short time they had been together. Arthur's hands were cold as they continued working, sparing Alfred as much strain as he could while he worked.

Arthur lighted his fingers over Alfred's ribs to feel if they were healing in the correct alignment. He then checked the range of motion with his elbow and ankle. It was excruciating on Alfred's part but nonetheless necessary. Arthur was glad that no complications aroused. 

"You probably need one or two more weeks for your elbow. Maybe longer with your ankle, seeing how it's been abused so much. As for you ribs, there's a four week healing period." 

As Arthur got up to leave, Gilbert eased the door open to reveal that he had been leaning in the doorway and eavesdropping the entire time. He looked at Arthur's slightly puffy face to Alfred's and back again. He held back any comments.

"Thing runs around 17 miles per gallon. You were short of luck on the gas, but some gas is better than no gas." Gilbert pushed himself off the door frame. "Let's get started now."

"...you're coming with us?" Gilbert stopped. With slow intent, the albino turned and regarded Arthur with terrifyingly blank affect. Arthur's eyes pulsed wide, and he gulped.

"/Yes./ I'm feeling generous enough to let you ride with the awesome me. I have family in Haven, after all." Gilbert rubbed his neck that turned pink for the first time. "Guess this is God's way of telling me to hang up my raider codpiece. Heh." He drifted away.

"I don't know what to feel about that," Arthur confessed. "Still, it's a hell of a lot better than him holding us up for a ransom no one will pay. Some raiders eat their captives." Arthur shuffled his hand in Alfred's hair. "Do you need anything?"

“A new body that isn’t so battered.” Alfred lightly joked as he gently swatted Arthur's hand away. “What are we going to do once we run out of gas? I can barely sit here and talk let alone long distance walking.” Alfred sighed and looked down at his lap, contemplating what to say next for a moment. “Maybe you guys should just go on without me. You’ll move faster and have a better chance of making it that way.” Alfred looked up at Arthur and smiled. “I’ll be fine there’s enough food here for you guys to take some and still leave at least two weeks worth for me. So don’t worry about me and go.”

"What if I were to say that to you?" Arthur cocked his head like a curious bird and folded his arms. Alfred exasperated him. He knew that by coming here and confronting Antonio, the ghosts of Alfred's past were haunting him. He wasn't used to consoling others and was brilliantly awkward with Alfred. All he could do was tap his foot impatiently. "There's no way I can do that, Al. Not even your enemy deserves that." Arthur fixed things up around the room, depositing empty water bottles and replacing them with new ones. "We'll use the wheelbarrow after the truck is out of gas." It would cut their time in half, and they were more likely to arrive a week behind schedule. If Gilbert helped Arthur, they could be gone by daybreak.

Alfred sighed knowing it was a lost battle Arthur would do what he thought was best even if it would slow them down immensely. Alfred wouldn’t even be able to fight the decision in his state, but he knew Arthur was right if it was the other way around there was no way Alfred would just abandon Arthur like that. “Alright but if the situation gets rough you will leave me behind. Understand?” Alfred spoke in a manner that he generally reserved for insubordinate soldiers leaving his tone as final.

Unfortunately, Arthur was not his subordinate. A cheeky grin slid across his face as the civilian placed his hands on his knees and bent forward. Their faces were just inches away. Jade eyes drifted idly along the curves of his face, the stubble particularly fascinating to him. Then, Arthur fixed him in his stare. "No."

Pleased with Alfred's indignation, Arthur threw a careless wave behind his shoulder as he walked out. "Get some rest. I'll come back for you when we're ready to go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Back into the fray they shall go with poor Al who is all but useless. As always reviews are much appreciated. Love you guys! Until next time…


	7. Chapter 7

The truck was packed within hours. Gilbert directed Arthur what he needed to get and where to get them. Arthur recovered Alfred and Arthur's confiscated goods and included that in. Gilbert rolled his eyes and argued with Arthur about bringing a single-size mattress onto the bed, but Arthur would have none of it. As Arthur's patient, Alfred needed to be as comfortable as he could be given the circumstances. With the mattress and the wheelbarrow precariously tied to the truck bed, there was little room for everything else, but they managed that and more. Arthur found it unnecessary to bring aboard things they would just be abandoning on the wayside, but Gilbert figured they might as well live it up. 

Arthur returned to Alfred in his room with Gilbert in tow. "It's time, Al." The raider and civilian carefully pulled Alfred up and half-carried him to the truck. They set him on the mattress in the truck bed secured at the sides with rope. 

Arthur rubbed the kink in his neck. "I think that's it."

Alfred lay on the mattress in the cold morning air the blankets on top of him did little to keep out the cold and in turn the cold did nothing but irritate his lungs causing him to frequently break into coughing fits. It hurt his ribs throbbed but he refused to complain a drag down the others even more so than he already was. “L-let’s just hurry up and get out of here.” Alfred said as his latest fit of coughs died down. “The sooner we leave the sooner we can get to somewhere safe for the night.” Alfred tried to hold back another round of coughs as he finished speaking but failed tears built up in his eyes as he tried to ignore the pain the coughing caused. 

"Alfred, take your pills." Arthur glanced worriedly back at him before climbing into the passenger's seat. 

"Yeah, Alfred, take your goddamn pills." Gilbert chuckled as Arthur rolled his eyes. The albino must have been used to others ignoring his humor. 

They set off towards the horizon. Gilbert, familiar with the tribe territories and its owners, kept to the roads sometimes while detouring off track other times. Arthur glanced at the fuel gauge now and then knowing at any moment the vehicle could putter to a stop. Arthur wanted to stop at the abandoned cars by the road and try their luck with siphoning there, but Gilbert assured him it was a lost cause. 

It was just a few miles until they estimated the truck would run out of juice. Arthur slid open the middle rear window and peeked out at Alfred. "How are you doing?"

“I’m out here in the cold while you’re in the nice warm cab how do you think I’m doing.” Alfred snapped before coughing again. “Perfect, fucking perfect.” Alfred lay shivering under his blankets the air that blew over him preventing any warmth from building up. “Why don’t you guys just focus on getting us as far as possible before you realize it would have been smarter to leave me behind.”

Arthur practically choked with indignation. "Forgive me, First Lieutenant, for paying back the favor when you saved me. Forgive me for going on a week-long trip across the wastes for gas because I didn't want you to become cripple. Forgive me for killing Antonio because he was murdering you and Francis for allowing it! Fuck you!!" The window almost snapped when Arthur slammed it shut. The civilian folded his arms and stared out again, seething with rage. Over the glossy Ray Ban sunglasses, Gilbert cast a cool sideways glance at Arthur and peeked in the rear view at Alfred. 

The truck rolled to a stop. The fuel was gone. Arthur kicked the passenger door out of the way as he dropped down and stormed to the end of the truck. With Gilbert he hauled out the wheelbarrow and shouldered on the backpacks already prepared for their journey on foot. Arthur ignored Alfred's presence, his very existence, and frankly he could do without the man entirely at the moment. He didn't expect Alfred to be thankful what he did for the ex-soldier. Alfred didn't ask him to kill Francis and Antonio. But, Arthur did want Alfred to acknowledge that by protecting Alfred he had lost some of his own humanity.

As much as Alfred groaned and bemoaned their situation he had to admit for such a quickly thrown together plan it was working out quite well. If it wasn’t for the cool fall weather the car ride would have probably been much more comfortable, but now as Alfred was placed in the wheelbarrow he found himself immediately missing the comfort of the mattress in the truck bed. As Arthur was ignoring him Gilbert was the one to tuck blankets around him to try and prevent Alfred from becoming ill in his weakened state. If Alfred even caught a cold it could easily become a serious condition as Alfred practically refused to breathe deeply because of the pain deep breathing caused him. Over the past week only when Gilbert forced him to, did Alfred even attempt to breathe deeper than the shallow gasps that his breathing had dwindled down to. 

Alfred looked over at Arthur, who had silently taken to watching over the area, and knew his outburst earlier was uncalled for. Alfred wanted to apologize but it didn’t look like Arthur would be willing to listen to anything he said for quite awhile. Once Gilbert had on his pack and loaded as many supplies as he could manage around Alfred while still being able to move the wheelbarrow they set off following Gilbert’s lead as he knew more about the area than either of the other two.

Arthur took the job of surveying the area with binoculars. So far nothing called for alarm. It was mid-morning, and they were already fifty miles into their destination for Haven.

But it was all downhill from here.

Or rather, uphill. Gilbert braced himself as he struggled to barrow Alfred over a sharp incline and rough terrain. Arthur did his share of the grunt work, but it was exhausting for everyone. Clearly, they were coming across humble countryside that was nothing like the easy trail when Alfred and Arthur first set out. For want of a better camp before nightfall, they retired at a small house hours before sunset. No sign of life-- or un-life. Everything inside the home was picked out by scavengers long ago. They camped out on the roof for the night, and for most of their journey they slept on the roofs of structures and buildings. Arthur's temper simmered down to a bland frustration with no direction. If he wasn't keeping to his own thoughts, he delivered vitriolic barbs indiscriminately at both Gilbert and Alfred at whatever they did. He hardly cared when Gilbert threatened to knock it off.

Alfred felt terrible about being nothing but a burden to the others as they struggled to move forward, they were already a week in the hole and judging by their pace they would be lucky to get to their destination in two more weeks. Winter was fast approaching and if they couldn’t make it to Haven by the time the rainy season started they were screwed. Arthur was getting more ansty and snapped at everyone, Alfred knew his behavior was partially caused by the stress of their situation as well as irritation he felt towards Alfred. Neither party had made the move to apologize about their short tempers, but Alfred felt that if they were to get anything done in a quick and safe manner than he was going to have to be the bigger man here and apologize.

One evening as Gilbert was snoring away on top of the roof of an abandoned storehouse, Alfred decided it was time to say something. Arthur was keeping watch and looked as paranoid as Alfred felt half the time, but as Alfred couldn’t sleep he decided he might as well keep Arthur company. “See anything out there?”

"Just the classic panoramic view of reanimated corpses," Arthur groused. He set the binoculars back down but didn't train his eyes away. A creeping hoard was approaching. Seemed they finally caught onto their scent. 

He did not look at Alfred. Understandably, he was more concerned with the threat to their mortal lives, but he also felt better snubbing Alfred under those pretenses. Arthur was tired, hungry, and wholly unsatisfied with their journey. Not because of the danger or Alfred (thought the grudge was wearing him down), but because with each passing day, Arthur was more convinced that Haven was a big mistake. Gilbert had family (whatever that meant), and Alfred had his brother and comrades. When they finally arrived, the two men would naturally be greeted by their loved ones. They would embrace, cry, laugh, and then be tucked into their respective home where they enjoyed a hot meal. Arthur didn't have the luxury of family, or anyone at all who gave a damn about him. 

He was jealous, and he hated it. And with the poor way things were going with Alfred, he wouldn't be surprised if Alfred hated him. Or worse, coldly indifferent. He wondered what Alfred would think if he died. Would he be just as unfeeling as he was to the deaths of Antonio and Francis? Ce est la vie? He was so stupid to think that a hardened survivalist like Alfred could give a damn.

Alfred watched as Arthur seemed to let a stream of thoughts pass through his mind, “A penny for your thoughts?” Alfred asked not entirely sure Arthur would answer him but felt the need to ask anyways. “They won’t go anywhere anytime soon and this building is too high for them to climb. So long as we stay calm and relatively quiet they should leave us alone.” Alfred quietly informed Arthur though he was almost positive Arthur already knew this information still he was trying to be comforting however little it seemed to be helping.

"What is it, Alfred?" Unlike the past few days, no acid carried the words. He wasn't hateful or bitter. He was weary, resigned, and a little heartbroken. He had an idea of what Alfred aimed to do, and Arthur was tired of the grudge, too. Regardless of Alfred's true considerations for him, he didn't want this bad blood.

“Sorry for snapping at you, it was out of line. I’ve been nothing but a burden this entire time and all I do is make things harder on you guys. I know I act cold a lot but that’s just what I’ve learned to do in order to survive. I’m grateful for your consideration and the way you don’t give up on me. Not many would do the same in your place.” Alfred rolled over onto his back wincing as the coldness of the roof stung through his clothes to his skin. “You’re a really special type of person Arthur and I’ve grown fond of being around you. Fonder than any person should out here in the wastes, attachment only leads to death I’ve relearned that lesson too many times.”

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" Arthur looked genuinely confused and looked at Alfred--really looked at him--for the first time in days. "You tell me I'm a good person, but I'm not good for you." He didn't know what to think. It was kind of Alfred to tell him he cared. Seeing as how nothing will become of them, that's all that should matter. Seeing Alfred uncomfortable with the cold, Arthur draped an extra blanket over him.

Alfred winced a bit at Arthur's response, “That’s not how I meant it to come out.” Alfred fumbled over his words for a few moments before finally saying, “I like you.” He sighed and draped his good arm over his eyes before continuing. “But I don’t know if I want it to go beyond that. I’ve seen so many people die Arthur, good people. They didn’t deserve their fate and often I wish I could have taken their place. I’m a terrible person. I don’t even bat an eye if I have to kill someone who was once my high school friend.”

Alfred slowly took his arm away from his eyes and looked at Arthur, “Do you realized everything you’ve done to save my life is the same as saving a murderer. You’ve been tainted by my very presence anyone who encounters me loses the last of their innocence, the last of their humanity.” Alfred looked back up at the night sky watching the stars for a small time. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this Arthur.”

Silence stretched between them. Arthur wanted to understand the perfect meaning of every word. But, he hadn't walked the paths Alfred had. He hadn't sacrificed what Alfred sacrificed. All he had was compassion and faith in Alfred-- even if it was all bad in the end. 

"But... in this world, isn't losing your humanity the same as surviving?" He looked up at the stars and unknowingly chased the same constellations with him. "Living means not playing by the rules." Arthur scooted back and lay down with Alfred. "I'm an adult. Don't take responsibility for me." He pressed his cheek against the cold slates, watching Alfred. "I don't care what you've done. And, I believe you when you say you've done those things. I don't know if I can replace your lost loves, but I want to give you everything of me." A pause. "If you'll let me."

Alfred closed his eyes and let everything Arthur said sink in before turning his head to face Arthur. “If you’re willing to accept a monster like me than who am I to turn you away.” He looked up with a small smile on his face, “What was that old movie line?” Alfred thought for a moment, “‘Twas beauty that killed the beast.’ Perhaps yours can kill my own inner beast the one that eats at my mind every day of my life.”

"Maybe our beasts will eat each other." Arthur smirked and rolled over on top of Alfred. He clamored up on all fours and trapped Alfred within his limbs. The civilian leaned closer, his looming smile relaxing as it prepared to receive Alfred's lips-- and then they were interrupted.

"Oh mein gott can you two not fuck on the roof?" Arthur scrambled away like a frightened cat as Gilbert went on. "Especially when you're on watch, limey."

Arthur scoffed but had no real reply to that. It was his watch. He looked through the binoculars. Yep. Hoard of fifteen or so coming right at them. "All right, all right. We got company, though." Gilbert grumbled and threw the blanket back over his head. Arthur lowered the binoculars and looked at Alfred again, a cautious, but fond smile gracing his lips.

Alfred laughed lightly at Gilbert’s reaction and was not concerned about the approaching hoard so long as they were quiet the infected wouldn’t bother them on the roof. Alfred sat up much easier than he had in the past few weeks, a sign he was getting better he hoped, and reached over to pull Arthur closer to him. Alfred placed a chaste kiss on Arthur's lips when the other turned his head to see what Alfred wanted before whispering, “Goodnight Arthur.” Alfred smiled at the red glow that filled Arthur's face with color, just barely visible in the moonlight. He quickly turned over facing away from the blonde and soon relaxed himself into a sleepy state.

The kiss was unexpected. Arthur was too surprised to purse his lips back. The shy "goodnight" warmed his heart, and the night wasn't so cold anymore. Arthur watched the ex-soldier's body relax, noting how the man breathed easier. He wasn't in tip-top form, but Arthur's predicted that Alfred would be on his feet very soon.

A week passed. It seemed like forever since the ex-soldier met the civilian and they left the city to find sanctuary. Though his elbow and ankle were fully functional, Alfred had a few days left until Arthur deemed him 100% able-bodied. In the interim, Alfred was stuck in the wheelbarrow. Arthur would hear no complaints.

When Gilbert was on watch duty, Arthur slept with his forehead between Alfred's shoulders and a loose arm draped over his hips.

They were going slower than anticipated, and they were on their last rations. When the group came across a small town, Gilbert wanted to investigate.

"You're bloody mad. It's already late and we can't chance those things hunting us."

"No choice. Because of gimpy over here, we're going slower than /half/ the pace on foot." Gilbert thumbed at Alfred, as if it wasn't obvious who he was talking about. 

"Shut. The fuck. Up." If Arthur wasn't holding Alfred up, he would have strangled the man. Alfred was feeling guilty enough; he didn't need blame from other people.

"In any case, there's nowhere else to sleep." The raider set off in the town's direction. Arthur cursed after him, but had no choice but to follow. He was right, but Arthur still thought that if they were even more frugal with the food and water rationing, they could make it. Gilbert was convinced they needed refueling.

Alfred still found it difficult to breath slightly but his elbow and foot were as good as new. He let Arthur help him along because he knew it provided a sort of comfort to the Brit to be of use to Alfred even if it did make it harder to walk. Alfred was beginning to get jumpy as the sun was setting knowing they needed to find a hideout soon or risk the infected attacking them, but with each store that failed to turn up food Gilbert would insist on continuing the search. 

“Gil, man, we can finish looking in the morning but we really need to get to some safer ground soon. I’ve seen infected out as early as now and I really don’t want to test our luck.” Alfred jumped when he heard the sound of trashcans being knocked over but breathed a sigh of relief as a group of rats scurried away from the source of the noise. “Seriously dude-” No sooner had Alfred turn back to Gilbert when an infected appear in Alfred's peripheral vision. “Infected four o’clock!”

Arthur immediately pulled Alfred away, but as they were staggering to the other side of the street another zombie crashed out of the window. It stumbled out of the hardware store and almost tackled them. Arthur had no choice but to rush forward. Gilbert retreated backwards. The albino's shogun exploded the heads of the zombies advancing too near.

Arthur was busy supporting Alfred and could not grasp his gun. They had to get back to Gilbert. With Alfred's help they tactfully dodged the mindless zombies, but there were too many of them. Gilbert's shotgun attracted a swarming hoard from all sides. There was nowhere to go.

Alfred and Arthur had no choice but to back into the wall. Arthur let go of Alfred and pulled out his gun. He fired several rounds into the zombies head, making way for a path. "Alfred, go to Gilbert. I'll hold them off."

“Like hell you will.” Alfred bellowed as he pulled his rifle off his back and firing a round into the head of a Zombie running straight at them. “Gilbert fall back.” Alfred barked out orders as any commanding officer would do in a stressful situation, he kept his cool even as the horde around them grew to an unmanageable size. 

“Fuck! Beilschmidt fall back now!” Alfred fired a controlled spray of bullets disabling many of the infected in his path before dragging Arthur behind him and Gilbert following quickly. Alfred had managed to get them to an open street with the infected breathing down their backs as they took off trying to both out run them and find a safe ground.

Alfred's lungs were on fire as he ran his ribs were still not fully healed yet and in no condition to take the abuse they were dealing with now. Alfred noticed an escape ladder on one of the taller building up ahead and decided that was their best bet for survival. “Ladder, eleven o’clock.” Alfred barked at Gilbert knowing the other would understand what he meant. Alfred had let go of Arthur's wrist to allow them better balance while running, but as Alfred began to quickly tire he knew Arthur would have slowed down with him in order to try and defend him. Alfred was panting hard from exhaustion and the abuse his chest was taking which caused him to stumble and fall to the ground.

Arthur's heart plummeted. "Alfred!" Arthur rushed back to get him. He ignored Alfred's pained gasp as he hauled him up and threw the ex-soldier's arm across his shoulders. He then secured his arm around Alfred's waist. Arthur forced them forward. 

Gilbert looked down at them from the platform above the first ladder. "Hurry up!" he bellowed before scaling the rest. 

"Oh god," Arthur gasped as three zombies cut into their path. Arthur clumsily pulled out his pistol. He shot once, twice, and then ran out. In his frantic state, Arthur kept pulling the trigger as the last zombie ambled forward. It was then that another zombie grabbed Arthur's arm.

Alfred caught he breath just enough to rip Arthur's arm out of the zombie’s grasp and shove the Brit forward towards the ladder. “Up, now!” Alfred commanded as he fought off the infected as best he could. When Arthur refused to listen Alfred turned and shoved Arthur up the ladder, almost getting himself bitten in the process. “If you want us to survive this you’ll fucking climb.” Alfred shouted his voice going hoarse from all the yelling and running he had done in the past few minutes.

Arthur was terrified, and quickly that fear turned into anger. "I'm not leaving you!" But Alfred shoved him up the ladder, and Arthur had no choice but to make room for Alfred and climb. He scampered up to the first landing and leaned over the railing. "Alfred! Climb up!"

Alfred quickly glanced up before shooting the hinges of the ladder causing it to fall and momentarily take out a few zombies. “Gilbert take him to the top.” Alfred called out to the albino who was one platform above Arthur. Alfred smiled up at Arthur one last time before taking off causing many of the zombies to follow him rather than hang around the now broken fire escape. The fall was too great for Arthur to risk jumping down and as all the windows had long since been boarded up Alfred didn’t have to worry about the blonde trying to follow him. The only thing that hurt was listening to Arthur call out to him as he ran away the panic and pleading in the younger’s voice tortured him, but there had been no other choice if any of them were going to make it out of here it was better those two made it.

Alfred rounded a corner and disappeared out of sight planning on making it to the construction site he had seen earlier. It would be safe enough for the night as the infected didn’t have enough balance to stay on such narrow beams. They would be fine and Alfred could reunite with Arthur come morning, for now he just had to make it to the construction site unbitten and alive.

Arthur screamed after Alfred as the ex-soldier disappeared around the building. Gilbert hurled him away by the back of his collar. Arthur fought, but he knew it was useless. Just before the landing broke, Arthur jumped and caught the second ladder. The civilian watched as the escape ladder crashed onto the zombies' heads below. His legs dangled in the air. He knew that if he let go it would be the end of him. With Gilbert's help he pulled himself up and managed to find his feet on the rungs. They climbed to the roof. 

Gilbert checked the door on the roof to find it was locked. Arthur raced to the other side of the building to search for Alfred. He searched and searched. There was nothing beyond the grey sea of zombies.

Arthur slowly fell to his knees and leaned against the wall. He curled up and hid his face in his knees. Gilbert watched from afar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dun dun dun duuun. What will happen next? That’s for me to know and you to find out ;P. Anyways reviews are always appreciated they make us smile. Until next time!


	8. Chapter 8

Alfred was exhausted; he had managed to climb to where he supposed the second story on the building would be and rested his back against a strong support beam. He tried to slow his breathing down so the throbbing in his chest would ease allowing him to painlessly breathe again. As his breath began to slow he stared down at the hoard of zombies groaning and attempting to follow after him as far as his eyes could see were hoards of zombies. Alfred sighed at the reminded as to why he avoided going into big cities unless it was necessary.

At least Arthur had Gilbert; Alfred knew Gilbert would protect Arthur as well as Alfred could have. The thought was comforting knowing that his recently gained lover would be safe until morning light at the very least. Alfred pulled out the rope that hung from his pack and tied himself to the beam the was leaning against before closing his eyes to try and get at least an hour of sleep before having to deal with the terror that was the world they lived in upon awakening.

~

Arthur and Gilbert sat on opposite sides of the building. Curled up like a homeless kitten, Arthur appeared to be asleep. But, as far as Gilbert knew, he was likely crying or blaming himself. Or planning the raider's murder. The albino remained firm on his decision of going into town, but maybe he should have waited until morning. The raider was frustrated with their slow progress on account of Arthur's fussiness over Alfred. It was so tastelessly obvious by the way he looked at Alfred that the civilian was head over heels in love. It made him want to gag. Alfred had to have been blind not to see it. He had to hand it to the young man that he was resourceful in his medical know-how, but Arthur was nothing like Alfred and he: free, resilient, and ready to survive at all costs. He didn't know /how/ Arthur survived thus far and remained naive and hopeful. He must have been protected by guys like him. Heh. 

They would search for Alfred in the morning. Given the ex-soldier's reputation with the local raiders (and Antonio), the man could survive a nuclear fallout. He had been in countless ambushes and shootouts with raider tribes that fought the former first lieutenant simply for his scalp. So Gilbert heard. 

Gilbert awoke to Arthur rummaging through his things. "What the fuck, kid--" he grappled for the gun flare Arthur sneaked out, but he missed. 

"I'm going to wait till mid-afternoon to use this. Alfred might have gotten lost." Arthur walked off. Unknowingly, they unanimously decided to wait for Alfred. No use setting out and missing Alfred as he made his way back to them. Arthur took out his binoculars and went to the edge of the building where Alfred disappeared around. 

The streets were empty again. No one knew where the zombies went at daytime. Gilbert was surprised no one found out, but the search parties may not have made it back alive. The survival rate in red zones, such as towns, was slim. 

Gilbert slapped on his hat and sunglasses. Too bad sunblock was hard to come by. The sun irritated his skin. He watched the civilian from the corner of his red eye, curious about his flat affect. He could be in shock, or numb, or quietly forgiving given their short history together. Arthur /had/ murdered his two best friends, after all. The albino felt that he was just going with the flow when he escaped from the ward and found an unguarded injured man lying alone in the complex. By all rights the albino was entirely justified in killing the ex-soldier and civilian, maybe worse. Gilbert found he had no desire to, not after hearing Francis reminisce on his childhood memories of a British boy whom he experimented with behind the bleachers as they hid from the fangirls at school. It was an odd memory, and in Gilbert's opinion they just got weirder. But he could tell Arthur meant a lot of him. 

He wanted to go to Haven. He wanted to see his girl, see how she was doing. He missed her so much. She left a few years ago saying she was tired of making victims out of strangers. She said they said at least zombies had the excuse of having no conscience. Gilbert thought she was crazy. But he accompanied her to Haven, and he left her at the gates. He hadn't seen her since.

~

As dawn hit Alfred was awoken by the echoing silence of the city. It was eerily quiet and it unnerved Alfred, he untied himself deciding it was safe enough to venture back to the other two. He used the rope to slide down one level at a time getting to the ground much quicker than climbing would have taken. He looked around and groaned at the unfamiliarity of his surroundings, he called out to Arthur and Gilbert pessimistically hoping the other two would be looking for him. After waiting a few moments Alfred gave up on that idea and decided to wonder around the city looking for the building he left Arthur and Gilbert at. 

Eventually he began to recognize some of the streets around him as the ones they walked into town on so he decided to try his luck by following them by memory. He saw the small off street that he remembered running down while trying to escape the infected. Turning down it he saw the building Arthur and Gilbert and he slowly approached it looking around for any signs of danger on the ground.

Out in the distance, sunlight sparked on the dull, matted cornflower of Alfred's hair. Arthur's strangled shout alarmed Gilbert, and he ran over to look. The albino took the binoculars from Arthur's limp hands. That seemed to snap Arthur out of his wondrous daze. The civilian raced to the door. He shot the latch with his reloaded pistol and kicked the door open. Ignoring Gilbert's alarmed yell, Arthur took off in a run down the many flights of stairs. In his haste he nearly tripped over himself, but he kept going.

By the time he burst out of the building, Arthur was sweating. His shoulders were heavy with fatigue, and the icy morning air he sucked into his lungs burned. He spotted Alfred a few blocks away. The ex-soldier didn't appear to have taken any more damage. Arthur closed the distance between them in a sprint. "Alfred!"

Alfred looked up to see Arthur sprinting at him looking like he had just run a marathon he smiled and waited for Arthur with open arms. As the other barreled into him at full speed, Alfred spun them around trying to catch his balance. “Missed me?” Alfred asked while gently laughing at how tightly Arthur clung to him. “Come on Gil couldn’t have been that bad of company.”

Arthur laughed. It was light and cheery. "And what about you? I hope the zombies didn't bore you." Arthur clung around Alfred's neck a little longer until finally dropping down. He pulled Alfred down for a kiss. After the first night, they exchanged only a handful of kisses, and all of them were as chaste as the first. Arthur tightened his fingers in Alfred's dirty hair and slanted their mouths for a deeper kiss.

Alfred groaned in appreciation and pulled Arthur as close to his body as he could manage. He wrapped one hand around Arthur's lower back and brought the other up to hold the back of Arthur's neck. Alfred felt gentle drops of water fall onto his skin and slowly broke the kiss leaning his head against Arthur's, “Hey what’s wrong?” Alfred asked as he brought a hand around and gently wiped a tear from Arthur's cheek. “I’m still here aren’t I?” Alfred softly kissed the corners of Arthur's eyes before holding the other against his chest letting them both just enjoy the moment.

Arthur sniffled and buried his face in the crook of Alfred's shoulder. He was so relieved he couldn't help but laugh. "Do you do that often?" It was miraculous that Alfred escaped the hoard-- injured! Arthur felt like he fell in love with him all over again. 

Gilbert stopped at a distance and watched the two. It was rare to see two lovers reunite. Too rare. "Saw a pharmacy a few blocks back. Let's go shopping."

Alfred looked up and nodded to Gilbert he gently kissed Arthur one more time before resting his arm around the other’s shoulders and following Gilbert into the Pharmacy. Alfred looked around and sighed it looked almost exactly like all the other shops in the area plenty of random nick-knacks but no food in sight. Alfred wondered down the aisles with Arthur at his side, “This is a waste of time we aren’t going to find food in the city.”

"This was a waste of time," Arthur groused as he gently disentangled from Alfred to search further into the store. He went straight to the stock room where the medications were. Save for a few bottles hiding underneath the shelves, the stocks were unsurprisingly empty. He recognized the topography of a few pills scattered on the ground and picked them up. They were far past their expiration, but he hoped they didn't lose all of their potency. Nothing but the expired prescription diet shakes proved to be of any use for food. 

"I found diet pills to curb hunger pangs," Arthur offered with a lackluster as he emerged from the room. "Painkillers and antibiotics, too. This wasn't entirely unsuccessful." 

Gilbert came back from the staff room with a protein bar stuffed in his mouth. "They didn't bother to unlock the storage cabinet," he said around a mouthful of chocolate and peanut butter. 

"Where did you get that!" Arthur demanded as he took the bars, chips, and assortment of junk food off Gilbert's hands. Arthur was salivating just looking at them. "They have Cadbury." Without further ado, Arthur ripped the package open and took a bite of the chocolate. He closed his eyes and hummed pleasantly, sighing through his nose. 

Arthur turned back to Alfred. "Come look at this!”

Alfred looked away from the waterless shampoo to see what the other two were getting so excited over. “What? Did you find anything us- WHOA! Is that Chocolate?!” Alfred quickly took one of the chocolates and ripped it open quickly shoving it in his mouth. “Oh my god! I can’t remember the last time I had chocolate!” Alfred waved his hand in front of his face savoring the sweet morsel in his mouth before it melted completely. 

"..." Arthur blinked as the man he loved transformed into a piggish slob before his very eyes. "Pace yourself; you'll get a stomach ache." Arthur somehow managed to snatch the rest from Alfred's clutch and held it away when Alfred yelped in protest. "We may be living in a post-apocalyptic world but my boyfriend's going to have some manners!" Arthur held the candy bar further away when Alfred lunged for it. In the background, Gilbert hollered with laughter and made the sound of a cracking whip. 

"You got your work cut out for you, lover boy," Gilbert bellowed as he tore into his Doritos funpack.

“Shut up sunburn!” Alfred yelled back making one last swipe at the candy before sulking off back to the shampoo section. “Let’s just grab some shit and go okay?” Alfred said as he swiped some random bottles of the cleaner into his backpack as well as some facial cleansing pads he found on a shelf nearby.

Arthur's eyes fluttered heavenwards in exasperation, playing down the slight embarrassment of his sunburn. It wasn't his fault he was fair-skinned! He should take after Gilbert and wear a hat. Arthur pocketed the chocolate. He would give it to Alfred after dinner. /If/ he behaved. The civilian chanced a peek at what Alfred was stocking and had an idea. We went to the hygiene aisle and took some things for himself. 

They left town and continued on. Arthur still assisted Alfred in walking, but it was mostly to feel each other close now. The zombie scare took him for a fright, and he knew just how close he was to losing Alfred. Out of the blue he gave Alfred a peck on the cheek, just a small thank you for staying alive. Arthur never thought he'd be the needy type, but he took great pleasure in simply feeling Alfred's warm body against his. 

It was the little moments he lived for. Resting his head on Alfred's chest and feeling it rise as the man breathed the wind of his breath as it curled into the shell of his ear when he leaned in close to whisper. They held each other through the cold nights as the undead followed them and shook the rickety boards of the houses they camped on top of. He got acquainted with Gilbert, too. Out of boredom they exchanged stories or people they met and places they'd been. They skirted the tragic moments, but every memory was tinged with sadness in that world.

"--and then Francis and I tossed that fucker into the fighting pit. His own dogs he trained ate him!!" Gilbert keeled over with laughter as he relived the moment of one of his more gruesome raider excursions. 

Arthur's face twisted in horror and disgust as he watched the albino roll around and almost fall off the roof. "What a wanker," the civilian said under his breath.

"Okay okay. Hahahaha. Okay. Alfred, your turn. Tell us a story." Gilbert sat up again, apparently regaining his senses. It was a clear night, and no zombie threats for several days. The men were in higher spirits and felt like they could relax for once.

“Hmmm let’s see,” Alfred began. “Oh here’s a good one! It happened back when I was still in the army. I was going on a three man assassination mission deep into enemy territory; we were nearly at our destination when everything started going haywire. One of the guys got caught by the patrol that was going around and fired a few rounds into them so he could get away but that alerted everyone in the camp to our presence. So at this point we had to decide whether or not to continue the mission.

“If we did continue then it would risk getting us killed, but if we didn’t then it would risk the lives of many of the civilians in the area with an air strike. Needless to say we pressed on and continued the mission we nearly had the guy too until a fucking sniper started firing on us he took out both of my buddies and nearly took me too.” Alfred pulled down his shirt to reveal the scarred remains of a bullet wound on his left shoulder. “But I was the better shot and nailed the guy in the head. Right as I did so I noticed the target getting away in a car down in the street well he didn’t get far not with the bullets I fired into his tank. Let’s just say he wasn’t fast enough to escape the explosion that followed. That mission boosted me up from a CW3 to a CW4.”

Gilbert seemed too interested in Alfred's scar so Arthur pushed him away with a frown. "Was it worth it?" Arthur guessed there was great pride in achievement and recognition, but that too often came at the expense of human lives. If Alfred's comrades survived with him, would Alfred's success had been as exceptional, and would he have still been promoted? He squeezed the ex-soldier's hand to reassure him he didn't judge him for whatever his answer would be. Arthur said he loved Alfred, even the bad parts, and he was sincere.

“If I didn’t think it was worth it I wouldn’t have done it. Even if I didn’t get promoted even if somehow my fellow soldiers survived I would have made the same decision without a second thought.” Alfred sighed and looked down at his lap. “War is a brutal and nasty thing. It’s kill or be killed. Even now in the time we live in, no offense Gilbert but even back at the base if you, Arthur, didn’t kill Francis or Antonio then we would have died. The reality of the world is that it’s a dog eat dog place.”

It was true. If Arthur hadn't have killed Francis and Antonio, Alfred would have died. Arthur wasn't even sure about himself. He wish it hadn't have come down to what the civilian still considered murder, but he would had regretted not saving Alfred more than he would have regretted letting Antonio bludgeon Alfred to death. "...me too. I think it was worth it." Arthur was surprised by the omission. He thought he'd regret it his whole life, never get passed it. And while accepting Francis' death didn't mean Arthur felt less of Francis than he did at any point in time, Arthur came to grips with the necessity of what he did. "It's hard to sleep sometimes because of what I did, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let you die because I didn't want to get my hands dirty."

Alfred leaned over and placed a kiss on Arthur's head. “I’m glad you think so. Killing is never easy but nowadays it seems so common place that I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like to feel guilty or sick over the fact that I took another human’s life.” Alfred smiled sadly and shook his head, “But enough about sad stuff.” He looked down at Arthur, “Tell me more about you running the base camp you lived at before you met me.”

Dusk shadowed the pink hue dusting Arthur's cheeks but didn't hide his nervous fidget. He was reminded of how Alfred called him 'kid' because the civilian was pathetically wet behind the ears. Arthur wasn't nearly on Alfred or Gilbert's level, but Alfred seemingly appreciated his use. Arthur couldn't shoot a zombie through the eye several meters back, but he could reset broken bones and mend bloody wounds.

"I learned basic emergency medicine from books and notes left behind in the school's library. Agriculture, maintenance repair, other such things. We weren't barbaric raiders. We were better than that. We weren't cavemen roaming from shelter to shelter and murdering others for their shoes. We didn't do that rot because I knew how to keep the structure in condition and knew how to grow food. You wouldn't believe the guns people abandoned because they didn't know how to clean them."

Arthur shook his head. "It's true we fought raiders and other groups over resources, like ammo. We weren't saints like the Red Cross. I'm not saying we were perfect, but we were better than the rest of the lot. I like to think that it's because kin is stronger than tribe."

Alfred sat for a moment in contemplative silence, “Arthur? You don’t have to if you don’t want to but you never did mention to me why you are even out here in the first place. Did something happen between you and your family?” Alfred gently brushed a kiss to the top of Arthur's head to sooth anything Alfred might have said to agitate the smaller Brit. “You don’t have to say anything, I was just curious.”

Arthur's face fell as he recalled the memory. "We were too cocky. When we fought off raiders from taking the school, it was always an uncoordinated attack on their side. We didn't expect or know how to prepare for a surprise coup from three raider tribes at once." The battle was bloody and it was a miracle he and his brothers lasted as long as they had. Arthur was with his brothers when they used the rocket launcher that exploded the raiders into a bloody mess of limbs. 

The battle lasted all day until the last shell was spent. Days later, Arthur thought he went deaf when the ringing in his ears didn't go away. The raiders kept coming and their ammo was far from spent. Arthur begged them to retreat, but they refused to give up the school until they were dead. Three experienced men with machetes and fire axes were nothing again a trigger-happy band of hooligans. 

Arthur escaped through one of the emergency routes connecting with the sewer system. The civilian immediately came back to see what happened of his brothers. He was there just in time to see the raiders haul his eldest brother outside and chain him to the empty flagpole outside of the fortification. He watched, horrified, as they left him there to be eaten by the undead. There was nothing Arthur could do to stop them. Even if he found a gun it was impossible. Arthur couldn't witness his brother be eaten and turned into a zombie. He left the school before dark and never returned. 

All of this he told to Alfred. "I think about what I could have done instead of running away like a coward. My brothers fought knowing they would die. I should have done that, too. I should have tried to save Rhys, even if I would have died." Arthur had never properly mourned for his brothers, but his last omission started the tears he had been denying himself from for months.

Alfred turned Arthur around so that the other was facing his chest so Alfred could hold him close while the Brit cried. Neither he nor Gilbert said anything while Arthur mourned the loss of his brothers; every person still alive since the world went to hell knew the pain of loss and the struggle that came with surviving. Alfred had to shoot his own parents when they had become infected, he could imagine the pain Arthur must feel knowing that there may have been something he could have done regardless of the risk on his life. “It’s okay,” Alfred soothed while gently rubbing Arthur's back. “Let it all out. It’s going to be okay.”

Arthur shook his head. No, it wasn't going to be okay. Tomorrow they were going to wake up in the same hell they've been in for the past six years. But for what it was worth, he was glad Alfred was there with him. Even though his brothers will never forgive him for deserting them and he will always be haunted by the lingering doubt if he stayed with them to the end, at least there was someone who would miss him if he died. Arthur swore he'd never abandon anyone again, even if it cost him his life. 

The civilian's crying calmed down to sniffling hiccups. He apologized to Alfred for messing up his shirt but didn't move his face away. Instead, he moved his head to the dry patch on Alfred's shoulder and closed his eyes. Alfred's arms were wonderfully warm as they embraced him in the chill air.

Alfred kissed Arthur's forehead before laying the two of them down. “Let’s get some sleep it’s a long walk tomorrow but we should be able to get to Haven. Gil, you’re on first watch right?” Alfred said implying that Arthur needed Alfred right now and he couldn’t leave the Brit alone after such a breakdown. 

“Yea sure,” Gilbert replied with a shrug.

Alfred rearranged them to lie on the roof. Arthur pressed full-length against the ex-soldier and hid his cold nose against Alfred's neck. He gave it a little peck before nuzzling his nose against him again. Tomorrow they would reach Haven. They were about to begin new lives inside true civilization, and they would almost be as safe as humans used to be before the virus broke out.

"I hope your brother is there," Arthur said honestly. Alfred deserved something good for once. He knew the ex-soldier had experienced so much death.

“So do I Arthur. So do I.” Alfred nuzzled his face in Arthur's hair and pulled their blankets on top of them. He thought for a few moments about everything Arthur had said and the way he treated Arthur upon first meeting him. Perhaps he had been too harsh, then again it wasn’t everyday he met someone so new to the violent ways of the world. Alfred let the thoughts drift from his head as he listened to Arthur's rhythmic breathing letting the pull of sleep finally overtake both of them. If all went well tomorrow they could finally rest easy knowing they were safe at long last, Alfred would make sure they were safe even if it was the last thing he managed to do.

The slope of Alfred's waist was a perfect fit for Arthur's arm. The civilian drifted his fingertip up and down the ex-soldier's back for a time, just feeling his warm skin through his clothes. Confession what happened of his brothers was both cathartic and burdensome. On one hand, it relieved his conscience from the guilt of hiding it, but it also brought to light issues Arthur wasn't willing to face yet. He knew he relied too heavily on Alfred and Gilbert. He would have died (and worse) in the last town if it weren't for Alfred fending the zombies off long enough for him to escape. Alfred wasn't resentful of Arthur for it, but the civilian also knew that as long as he stayed with Alfred he would continue to hide in his shadow. 

That's why he wanted to prove himself. In Haven, somehow Arthur would be of use. Irreplaceable use. Arthur's knowledge of medicine and basic domestic settlement could contribute to the growth of Haven. Beside Alfred, that was all Arthur wanted-- to be needed. 

As night passed, Arthur's thoughts wound down. He was finally able to sleep, and he didn't wake up until the crack of dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes they may be about to arrive at Haven but this story is in no way close to being done. At this point were at the halfway to finish. As always rates and reviews are always appreciated. Until next time.


	9. Chapter 9

Alfred had awoken before Arthur by Gilbert for the watch switch, but he remained close to Arthur as the Brit lay sleeping his head cradled in Alfred's lap. It wasn’t until early morning when the sun came up that Alfred gently shook Arthur's shoulder awakening him from his sleep. “Arthur, come on. It’s time to get going.” Alfred smiled as Arthur grumbled in protest, so instead of forcing the other awake Alfred gently got up without disturbing Arthur too much and began to make sure everything they needed was packed up and ready to go.

Once Alfred finished the preparations he woke Gilbert up getting the same grumbling but still forcing the other awake. As he went back to Arthur he gently shook the other again, “Arthur you better get up. I hear Haven has packages of nice earl grey tea. You wouldn’t want to miss that would you?”

Arthur head popped out of the covers. "Whuh? Earl grey?" The civilian blinked the fog out of his eyes and settled them on Alfred. "What's this about Earl Grey?" He had missed out on the rest of what Alfred said. The mention of tea was like an alarm clock to the young man. He had gone without a good cup since the razed fort that seemed like years ago. Realizing he misheard Alfred, Arthur sighed and combed his fingers through his bed head. If things went according to plan, they should be at Haven by nightfall. Arthur stood up and folded the blanket, stuffing it into their shared luggage.

Once they got moving they only stopped for a brief moment around noon for lunch and a quick rest. They were going at a quick pace excitement hastening their speed and made it to Haven a good two hours ahead of schedule. When the large safe walls of Haven came into view Alfred cried out in joy and began running towards them followed quickly by a just as ecstatic Gilbert. “Arthur look at this! Look how sturdy those walls are! We’re here were finally here!” Alfred exclaimed laughing in sheer joy something he hadn’t done for quite some time, not even his dark past could dampen this moment for him. 

“It's quite something,” Arthur agreed as he followed after the two at a normal pace. 

A head popped up over the high walls of Haven. “State your name a business,” the watchman said, giving the newcomers a critical eye. Then, he recognized Alfred. “My boy! Long time no see. We missed you,” he laughed in relief. The man ducked out of view, and a few moments later the electric gate opened. He jogged out to meet the lot.

The watchman embraced Alfred like a long-lost brother and pulled back to give the ex-soldier a good once-over. “You look like shit,” he quipped happily. He tipped his great cowboy hat at Arthur, to which the latter nodded his head in greeting. He did the same to Gilbert, albeit with a short frown. It was apparent that if it weren't for Alfred's outstanding reputation with Haven, there was no way he would even think to tolerate the raider within a mile of the fortification. 

“Brought some friends with you.” He continued to watch Gilbert in warning.

“Yep my good friends both saved my life on the way over here. Gilbert here apparently has his wife and brother living here so since he’s all by his lonesome now he decided it was time to settle down. As for Arthur,” Alfred gestured towards the Brit, “well he’s with me, if you know what I mean.” Alfred winked at the watchman suggesting that they had known each other long before to world went up in smoke.

“That so.” The watchman cocked his head to the side, seeing Arthur in a new light. Arthur was more irritated than embarrassed that Alfred could be so crass. He would have given him a piece of his mind if he didn't know that this man had the say on who was permitted in Haven and who wasn't. 

“And what's this about a wife and brother?” Gilbert met the watchman's stare with a feral smile. 

“Her name's Liz. She arrived at Haven a year or so ago. My little brother Ludwig was one of the founders of Haven. I'm sure you know that.” The watchman's eyebrows shot up at the familiar names. Especially Ludwig. 

“Well, we'll see about that, raider. I'll hold onto your weapon. Just because Ludwig is your brother don't mean a free pass into Haven. It's up to the community to admit you.” 

Gilbert was about to protest this treatment when Arthur cut in. “Gilbert, it's just for now. You're lucky he's even giving you a chance.” It was a harsh thing to say, but it wasn't any less true. By all rights, the watchman could have, and probably /should have/ shot Gilbert on sight. 

“God dammit!” Gilbert threw his shotgun to the ground in a fit. “Like hell I'm doing this for you, cowboy.” The watchman bristled. “I'm doing this for Liz and West.” The watchman followed up by quickly patting Gilbert down. 

Satisfied, the watchman nodded his head towards the gate. “Shall we?”

Alfred patted Gilbert on the back giving him a sympathetic smile before following the watchman into the refuge. He instantly felt more at ease in the safe environment as the electric gates shut behind him, but still made sure Arthur remained at his side due to lingering paranoia that he had developed from years living outside of safe zones. It was strange to see people so easily shopping and trading for goods and to see so many fresh fruits and vegetables available. Alfred smiled as he looked over at Arthur whose head was swiveling left and right just trying to take in the wonder of it all. “Where to first pal?” Alfred questioned as they followed the watchman through the town. Just as the watchman was about to answer some one angrily called out, “GILBERT BEILSCHMIDT!” 

Everyone jumped at the booming voice promising blood. Gilbert's heart jumped to his throat. Standing out amongst the crowd was a brunette-haired woman. It wasn't just the woman the albino was astonished to see. It was the child bundled in her arms. Like a man possessed, Gilbert's feet moved without intending to. He walked faster and faster until he broke out into a sprint and wrapped the two of them up in his arms. “Elizaveta!”

The child was a few months old, probably nearing its first year. Arthur leaned in to whisper to Alfred. “Think that's his kid?”

“I have no idea but if that white hair is anything to go by I’m guessing yes.” Alfred said as he shrugged his shoulders Gilbert never mentioned a kid but if the time frame Gilbert had told them was right it was very possible.

“You ass, do you have any idea how long it’s been?” Elizaveta asked as she blinked back tears, angry tears mind you, there was no way she was crying like some army wife who just got a surprise visit from her husband. “And stop squishing us. You’re going to hurt her.” She took a step back and readjusted her hold on the child in her arms. “She’s only six months old you know.” The child fussed for a moment in her arms before being quieted by her mother’s gentle bouncing. “And is already a pain in my ass just like you are.” The last comment held no bite as it was said in a fond motherly tone as she cooed to her daughter.

There was no mistaking it. Although the child didn't have the albino's strange pigmentation, she did have very fair hair, just a shade darker than Gilbert's. Her eyes were green like her mother's, but she had the same playful and feral smile as her father. 

Gilbert raised his hand up to touch, but hesitated. She was so small and fragile, like a doll. He didn't want to hurt her. Instead, he touched the back of his fingers to her cheek and stroked the smooth skin. He laughed, a slow, fond chuckle. “Her skin is so soft. What's her name?”

Before Elizaveta could answer, the child's eyes locked with Gilbert's. And she smiled. Gilbert was astonished; it was like she already knew who he was. The baby grabbed Gilbert's finger with one chubby hand. “Da da.”

Elizaveta looked down at the baby and pouted, "I’ve been trying to get you to talk for forever, then he shows up and suddenly you're little miss chatterbox. I only feed and raised you this far, but no go love your father I see how it is." Elizaveta looked up at Gilbert who was staring at their daughter in awe, she smiled. “Alright Fredrika, you want your father, and I’m sure he wants you too.” Elizaveta gently moved Gilbert’s arms so they were in the proper position to hold Fredrika before gently placing their little girl into her father’s arms for the first time.

“Shit, Liz, what do I do?” Gilbert panicked and almost dropped her. “Shit! I got this.” Fredricka whimpered in fear, but she didn't cry as Gilbert held her the way Elizaveta instructed him to. She tucked the albino's arms in closer around the baby. Gilbert cast her a hesitant smile and looked back down. “Well, damn. Aren't you a cutie? Just like your mom.” He gave little kissy sounds that Fredricka laughed at.

Elizaveta laughed and smiled along with them happy to finally have her family complete and safe with her. For this small family everything was right again and being together was more than enough happiness than they could every need.

Alfred smiled as he watched the scene and felt just a tad bit sad knowing he would never have that. He could never have children, not with Arthur at least, but when he let his mind wonder over the idea a moment longer he found that he didn’t care. He had a wonderful man by his side that made him happier than he had felt in years, he was stubborn, smart, loving, and everything Alfred could have ever hoped for. No he didn’t need a family to be happy, he just needed Arthur. He laughed at himself realizing he had known Arthur all of a month and now he felt like this about the man. Alfred shook his head acknowledging he was acting like a love sick school boy over their latest romantic infatuation.

Alfred smiled and looked over at the watchman, “Let’s head over to where you were going to take us. I’m pretty sure Elizaveta over there can keep him in line for a bit if he even has the chance to let his mind wander past his little girl.”

Alfred did have a point. If anyone could keep the raider in line, it would be Liz. The watchman was nevertheless fascinated by this turn of events. Elizaveta cavorted with a raider! Like most residents of Haven, she avoided talking about her past. It was understandable. Whatever a person did to survive before they lived in Haven was in the past. Liz never mentioned her child's father, but they did know that Ludwig was the uncle. Speaking of which...

"Right, right. I'll show you to Ludwig. He's the mayor." He pointed at a large structure above the single-floor shacks. "See that there? That's the mayor's house. Don't know if you've met him, Al. He took over when the last mayor died." He patted Alfred on the back one more time. "Good to see you alive and well, old friend." He looked at Arthur. "And thanks for taking care of him."

The watchman winked. Arthur was mortified. When he shuffled back to his post, Arthur slapped his face with both hands and groaned with distress. "I'm going to be known as the golden boy's toy, aren't I?" His hands covered his whole face. "I can't believe it." On the bright side, he'd most likely be voted in as a resident. Still, it wasn't the most flattering thing to have a reputation based on /someone else/.

Alfred threw back his head and laughed, “Well at least we know your way more likely to be voted in with the title. Don’t worry about what people call you I know for a fact that Ludwig wouldn’t put up with that type of discrimination after all he has a special someone by his side too.” Alfred looked over at Arthur and winked still wearing the bright happy smile that had yet to come off his face since they arrived. 

Alfred threw open the doors to the town center where the mayor would be located not bothering to knock first. “Hey Ludwig! Guess who’s her-” Alfred stopped at the scene before him in shock for a moment before trying not to laugh. Ludwig sat in the mayor’s chair with a half naked Feliciano draped over him, his hair was messed up and his face was flushed red in utter embarrassment. “I’m sorry are we interrupting something? I mean I know Feli is always up for a quickie but Ludwig I never pegged you as one for acting rebellious especially now as mayor.” Alfred shook his head tutting not looking at all serious as he sounded.

Feliciano hopped out of the chair and came running towards Alfred, “Alfred!” The Italian flung his arms around Alfred hugging him tightly. “How are you old friend? We haven’t seen you in years, have we Luddy? Oh? Who’s this with you?” Feliciano asked turning to Arthur a welcoming smile on his face.

"/This/ is Gilbert's brother?" Arthur snorted, half-incredulous. He had no reason to disbelieve, but they looked nothing alike! Even if Gilbert wasn't albino, there were little similarities between the men. Ludwig's impressive height, the strict features on his face (currently cherry red), and his hyper-muscularity was the opposite reflection of his brother.

“Feli meet Arthur, Arthur this is Feli. And the blushing bride over there is Sergeant Major Ludwig Beilschmidt of the 62nd unit.” Alfred announced ignoring Arthur's comment.

Ludwig had gained enough control of his embarrassment to walk over and actually interact with everyone else. “Most people just call me ‘mayor’ now sir.” Ludwig responded with a light salute to Alfred a higher ranking officer. “If I may ask what brings the two of you here? Surely you didn’t just drop by for a visit.”

“Perceptive as always Beilschmidt, but your right we came for two reasons. One it’s probably a hell of a lot safer here than out there and two I figured you may want to see your big bro again. I would have brought him with us, but a cute little girl caught his eye.” Alfred said with a wink. “Anyways, I guess you’re the big guy we have to meet up with in order to be allowed to stay here. So what do you say?”

Ludwig smiled when he heard Gilbert had finally gotten the chance to meet his daughter. The little girl was really too much like her father for her own good. His expression soon turned into a contemplative frown as Alfred began to ask for permission to reside within Haven. “Well that honestly depends on the choice of the people. I can give my opinion and while it does carry some weight I do not necessarily have the final say in matters of this nature. I recommend that you make a convincing argument for yourselves as to why you would be useful to the citizens here and hope for the best.”

Feliciano let out a scoff, “Oh please Ludwig if you say yes the people automatically agree with you. They know better than to question a decision of the mayor, and you know better than to question a decision from me.” Turning back to Alfred and Arthur Feliciano smiled warmly, “Of course you can stay. Don’t let what Luddy here says worry you at all, he’s really a giant teddy bear.”

"I'll have to take your word on it." Arthur laughed, warmed by Feliciano's kindness and assurance. The civilian would never peg Ludwig as the "teddy bear" type, but Feliciano clearly knew him better than anyone else. The thought of proving his worth to the Haven citizens turned his stomach into a fit. Alfred was unquestionably a shoe-in. Arthur, on the other hand, would have to convince the citizens. As for Gilbert... well. It depended on how much they knew about the raider. 

"Where will we stay in the interim?" Arthur had passed some communal houses on the way. There were houses and shelters that people lived in, but it wasn't as if they could immediately move into one. "And showers?"

Ludwig was the one to answer, “You may stay with us for the time being we have an extra room you two may use. As for showers luckily for you the mayor gets their own private shower otherwise its communal bathing switching between men and women every other day, but you may wash up in our personal washroom.”

Feliciano smiled brightly at Ludwig kissing his cheek before grabbing Arthur by the arm. “Come on this way I’ll show you to your room as well as the bathroom.”

Feliciano explained to him the shower functioning, and Arthur nodded mutely. He was afraid that if he said anything the spell would be broken. The Italian couldn't leave fast enough; Arthur immediately stripped from his filthy road clothes and jumped into the stall. A spray of icy water assaulted his body. The civilian hissed uncomfortably before biting the bullet and scrubbing himself. It was both fascinating and horrifying how truly dirty he was, and he vaguely wondered how Alfred could even stand to be near him (and vice versa). Although Arthur used the soap as sparingly as possible, he couldn't help but wash his hair with it twice. 

Arthur turned off the water and stepped out of the shower shivering. He put on a pair of clean clothes Feli must have set out for him while he was scrubbing his skin pink. The feeling of cleanliness was indescribable; Arthur sighed happily as he walked down to hall to their shared room. He wanted to sleep in a clean bed with a real mattress and pillows. That's all he wanted; that, and maybe an equally clean ex-soldier to share the bed with.

The civilian stopped at the foot of the bed and stared at it. Then, all at once he fell face first into the heavenly mattress. He groaned in bliss, smelling the clean detergent as he shimmied into the covers and buried his face in the pillow. He was passed out within seconds.

When Alfred came in later after talking with Ludwig and a cold shower, he caught sight of Arthur snoring lightly on the bed that they were to share. He smiled at the sight knowing like him Arthur most likely hadn’t slept in a real bed for a few years. He sat on the edge of the bed and slowly towel dried his hair, careful to be quiet so as not to awake the sleeping Brit. It was already quite dark outside but Alfred couldn’t find any desire to sleep, he wondered briefly if it had to do with so many years of insomnia perhaps his sleep schedule was messed up because of it. By the time Alfred decided to just lay down and relax it was already late into the night and still he couldn’t find peace. His whole being was screaming at him the dangers of sleeping in an unguarded home and even knowing he was safe inside the walls he still fears the ever-looming threat of the infected.

Arthur was too tired to dream. He woke up in the middle of the night with a heavy, laden feeling in his head. Groaning, Arthur rolled on his back and felt Alfred's warm, solid body next to him. Blinking the fog away, he realized his companion was still awake. "Alfred? You should be sleeping," he gently chastised as he rubbed the ex-soldier's shoulder.

Alfred shrugged his shoulders and gently murmured, “Not sleepy.” He turned so that his back was facing Arthur still too jumpy to relax at all. “Go back to sleep Arthur you need it. I’ll be fine.” Alfred silently hoped for two things: one, Arthur would just accept his explanation and go back to sleep; two, Arthur would see right through Alfred and try to help him because heaven knew he needed it. 

"M'kay," Arthur murmured in his dream-daze. He closed the space Alfred made between them, pressing close to Alfred and holding him snug from behind. Between his shoulder blades, Alfred could feel the young man sigh in utter contentment. "How are your ribs?"

“Fine, they don’t really hurt anymore. And you? How are you feeling?” Alfred asked as he gently drug his fingers along Arthur's arm soothingly rubbing back and forth. He flinched for a moment when he heard a long drawn out hiss coming from the hallway but relaxed when he heard the sounds of two cats fighting immediately afterward. For some reason animals never stayed near highly infected areas yet another thing people had yet to investigate.

Arthur waited in tense silence until the cat fight played itself out. Even in Haven, he couldn't bring down his guard. "Still in one piece, thanks to you." He gave a gentle squeeze around Alfred's middle where it wouldn't hurt.

He hadn't forgotten the first time Alfred saved him. When they fled from the convenience store after the grenade blast, a zombie clutched his leg and pulled him to the ground. Arthur would had died--or worse, turned into one of them-- if it weren't for Alfred's intervention. If Alfred was as terrible as he said he was, he would have used Arthur's misfortune to curb the zombies off his trail. But, he didn't, and here they were now.

“Any upstanding soldier would have done the same.” Alfred answered quietly. His danger alarms were going off non-stop at even the slightest noise. It felt as if he let down his guard he’d be killed in the next moment, mentally he knew they were safe inside these walls. He knew there were night guards posted at all the walls ensuring everyone inside them stayed safe, but it wasn’t enough to let Alfred relax. Alfred sat up quickly and buried his head in his hands for a moment before quickly standing up. “I’m going to walk around a bit I’ll be back later.” He quickly uttered before walking towards the door.

"Alfred, wait!" Alfred already crossed the threshold when the civilian caught his wrist. "Don't be absurd. Go to bed." He knew what had Alfred on edge, and he wasn't going to let Alfred fall into a paranoid nightly routine if he could help it. "Get back here." Arthur grunted as Alfred resisted his pull. Arthur was having none of that; he grabbed Alfred around the waist, pivoted, and hauled him back onto the mattress. And before he could recover, Arthur pinned his shoulders down. "Go to sleep. Doctor's orders."

Slowly Alfred's breath began to come out quicker until he was hyperventilating, he pushed Arthur back as he began to break into a cold sweat. “Can’t breathe,” He choked out, “Air. Can’t breathe.” Alfred threw his hands over his eyes trying to calm himself, but it didn’t help it only allowed twisted panic inducing images to dance across the blackness. 

Alfred quickly stood up again and bolted out the door heading outside. He felt his side for his pistol but panicked more when he discovered it was missing. Why was it missing? What happened to it? It was too dangerous to not have a weapon on himself at all times. To the roof, he had to get to the roof. Roofs were safe. The infected couldn’t climb roofs. Once he got outside he began to try and climb the texture-less sides of Ludwig’s home. He began to panic more as he couldn’t get a hold of the sides. He couldn’t get to safety. He was going to die. They were going to get him. He had to get to safety.

Arthur called after him, incensed and more than a little worried. He followed doggedly after the ex-soldier. Outside, he managed to catch the back of Alfred's pants as the man began grappling up the building. He wrenched him away, and the two went toppling to a heap on the ground. They wrestled, Alfred trying to dislodge Arthur and Arthur trying to hold on. Arthur somehow managed climb on top of him. Before Alfred inevitably threw him to the side, the civilian fisted the ex-soldier's hair and crushed their lips together. Alfred's struggles were met by Arthur's fists yanking his hair back down, forcing his head to stay in place. The kiss was meant to distract Alfred from his panic and bring him down to reality. In between gasps for air Arthur reassured Alfred it was all right, that he was safe now and there was nothing to worry about within the walls.

“Please. Please, it’s not safe. We have to get to safety. It’s not safe on the ground. They’re going to get us.” Alfred begged between kisses, tried to make Arthur understand the non-existent danger. Tears slowly began to fall down from Alfred's eyes as he realized Arthur wasn’t going to listen. “Please.” He tried to plead, unable to take himself out of his panicked state. “We’re not safe here.”

"Stop talking." Arthur sealed his hot lips over Alfred's. The ex-soldier's resolve weakened and he pleaded with Arthur, but the civilian would hear none of it. The ex-soldier was still frantic, but it was more of a helpless resignation that Arthur wasn't going to let go. 

Arthur sat back and cleared the tears from Alfred's face with his thumbs. He ran his fingertips over Alfred's scalp, combing back his hair. "Do you know where you are?" He needed to ground Alfred back to reality. "Don't you trust your comrades? Isn't the army about depending on each other?" It killed Arthur to see what Alfred's past did to him, but he held back his sadness-- this was about Alfred.

“We’re not safe. Never safe.” Alfred murmured a few more tears escaping from his eyes. “They’re gone. They’re all gone. I killed them. It’s all my fault. All my fault…” Alfred continued to murmur self-depreciating words about himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”

Arthur gently guided Alfred's head to face him. Alfred's blue eyes, glossy with tears, were the most beautiful he'd ever seen. "Don't hate yourself for surviving. Don't hate yourself for being strong." Arthur couldn't imagine the burden of responsibility a first lieutenant had over his unit, and the guilt he took upon himself when witnessing his soldiers die. Arthur was still on Alfred's lap when he cajoled the ex-soldier to sit up. Arthur linked his arms about Alfred's shoulders and kissed his cheek. "I want you to be happy," he confessed truthfully. "Maybe it's wishing for too much, but I hope that one day you won't regret living on when your friends died." And he wanted to be the one Alfred thought life was worth living for, but he didn't say that. Arthur wouldn't be surprised if Alfred was still in love with someone else, and it burned his heart to think that he would become a replacement for them. Sometimes he thought he was fine with it as long as he could be with Alfred. "Promise you will at least try, for their sake."

Alfred leaned his head against Arthur's shoulder and nodded mutely. Slowly exhaustion began to take its toll on Alfred and the ex-soldier could feel his eyes slipping shut, but he couldn’t muster the energy to panic over it. Slowly Alfred's weight slumped against Arthur as he finally slipped into the sleep his body so desperately needed.

From the doorway another pair of blue eyes watched the two his hand slowly slid away from the pistol in the back of his of his pants. Ludwig slowly walked over to the two when he noticed Alfred had fallen asleep. He gently tapped Arthur's shoulder indicating that he needed to get up, “I’ll help you get him back to bed.” 

Arthur looked up, relief clear on his face. "Thanks." Ludwig nodded as Arthur stood up and stepped aside. "Was it always this bad?"

Ludwig shrugged as he picked Alfred up holding him under his knees and back and began to slowly walk towards the house careful to not stir Alfred too much. “For a time yes, but Alfred didn’t get the reprieve I did, he was in the war up until nearly a week before the infection hit. So he has been running in high gear for eight years now. It gets to you after awhile. The paranoia, the stress, and judging by the severity of his panic just now he’s most likely developed a severe case of PTSD.” 

As they entered into the spare bedroom Ludwig nodded his head towards the bed indicating to Arthur to pull down the covers. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he still doesn’t trust you. I couldn’t bring myself to trust anyone for quite awhile even Feliciano and I have known him since my youth.” Ludwig gently laid Alfred down on the mattress and let Arthur pull the covers over the sleeping American. 

“Don’t take it too hard it will take him quite awhile to let go and relax. Once he realizes and accepts that he’s safe here he should start to get better, but from my own experience it will get much worse before it gets better. He’ll need you to help him through it. I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t have Feliciano there for me when I was at my worst.” Ludwig looked away trying to mask the slight reddening of his cheeks. “Well then I’ll let you get back to sleep. Goodnight.”

"Thank you," Arthur called after him. When the door closed, he turned to Alfred. He wanted to believe in Ludwig's hope for Alfred, but he didn't know. Could he be the support to Alfred that Feliciano was to Ludwig? Alfred didn't seem to even want help. Arthur let out a resigned sigh before crawling into bed next to Alfred deciding these things should be thought on with more than just a few hours sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sure they’re safe… for now but Alfred isn’t okay… I tried my best researching the whole PTSD thing so hopefully I got it right. Anyways reviews are much appreciated. Thanks to everyone who does send them in it brightens our day. Until next time.


	10. Chapter 10

When Alfred awoke late the next day when the sun shone brightly through the window. He blinked blearily before coming to complete consciousness and jolting out of bed. He had he slept this late it was dangerous he needed to move staying too long in one location lead raiders to you. It wasn’t safe. He began hastily trying to pack his bags but couldn’t find most of his equipment where was it he needed it. He was in such a frantic state that he barely noticed when the door opened behind him.

A pair of warm hands closed over Alfred's. Arthur gently disentangled the clothes out of Alfred's hands and led him away from the drawer. "Alfred, your brother's here to see you."

Alfred slowly looked up at Arthur the words from the Brit’s mouth stopping any struggle he may have put forth before. “Mattie?” He asked skeptically, no Mathew was gone just like everyone else he must be gone the world wasn’t nice enough to do something like that. “Mattie’s gone. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Everyone is gone. Everyone leaves me.”

“When you left months ago and never came back, I thought the same.” Matthew, who was hanging back in the doorway, stepped into the room. A smile that put the sun to shame curled across his face as he wasted no time in crushing his older twin in a tight hug. He pulled away and held Alfred at arm's length, looking him over. He laughed and shook his head. “You really do have the devil's luck. Arthur told me you had two crushed ribs.” His smile drooped, remembering what Arthur told him. Matthew was very concerned to hear that Alfred tried to scale the walls last night, especially having just witnessed Alfred's trauma just now. He pulled Alfred into another strong hug.

Arthur cleared his throat at the door. “There's coffee in the lounge. I'll leave you two to catch up.” Matthew smiled his thanks as Arthur quietly slipped away.

Alfred stood still as a statue as Mathew hugged him unsure if he should believe his eyes or not. By the time Mathew hugged him again Alfred could feel the water building up in his eyes. “Mattie?” His voice squeaked as he spoke betraying the emotions building up inside Alfred. “Mattie? You’re really okay?” Alfred felt a few tears fall from his eyes, but was so engrossed by his brother’s presence that he didn’t notice Arthur leave the room.

Matthew patted Alfred's back, just happy to have his twin close. He kept his hands on his shoulders and smiled sadly at the tears. "Yeah, Al." Because Matthew remained in Haven to help build the camp, he spent less time than Alfred outside and did not experience the depth of inhumanity the world was reduced to in the aftermath of the war. Though he experienced his fair share fighting alongside his brother when the infection spread, he spent more time coordinating attacks while his brother fought at the frontline. Because of that, he really respected Alfred but understandably worried after his well-being. Alfred always pushed himself too hard. "I'm so glad you're back."

“You’re safe and healthy,” Alfred smiled at his brother before pulling him in close for a tight hug before pushing him back at arm’s length. “Mattie you have to hurry and pack your bags we have to leave it isn’t safe here. It isn’t safe to stay in one spot for more than a night.” Alfred nodded to himself before he gently pushed his brother towards the door. “Go on get your stuff I’ll meet up with you in a bit.” Alfred grabbed for his pistol which he still had yet to grasp the fact that it was no longer at his side nor did it need to be. “Where’s my pistol?” Alfred's eyes widened, “They took it from me. See I told you it isn’t safe here we have to leave.”

Matthew wedged his heels against the floor preventing Alfred from shoving him out the door. "Wait, Al!" Matthew grabbed Alfred's shoulders and forced him to face him. "Get a hold of yourself!" He had dealt with trauma from civilians and soldiers alike, but this was severe. It frightened him. "I was thinking about this. How about you accompany me on night patrol?" If Alfred understood how safe Haven was, hopefully it will put his mind at ease.

“Night patrol?” Alfred questioned he frowned for a moment before continuing, “Mattie a night patrol won’t protect us. Camp Scandinavia had a night patrol and their gone now. I had to trick the last remaining member into drinking poison. He was a nine year old boy Mathew. I had to kill a nine year old boy because he was infected, because the night patrol couldn’t protect the camp.” Alfred pushed off Mathew and scoffed, “Fine I’ll stay behind one more night to show you all the weaknesses of this ‘night patrol’ and then we need to move on right as dawn hits.”

Matthew's heart sank. Scandanavia, too? "There were a lot of things wrong with Scandanavia. They didn't have the resources we had, and they were too near the city limits. But I'll take you up on your offer, anyway. But first, let me show you around. A lot's changed since you last visited."

Alfred was reluctant to venture out without his weapon, but when he noticed the small pistol on his brother’s side he became more open to the idea. “Okay let’s go.” Alfred started walking right towards the front door wanting to quickly show his brother reason and make him understand that staying inside these walls was too dangerous.

"First, a stop at the mess hall." It wasn't the best food-- well, it was terrible, but it was food. The population was noticeably larger, and fresh foods like eggs and vegetables were spread thin.

"It's a work in progress." Matthew smiled apologetically as Alfred wordlessly stared down at the tray of mush and gruel. When they finished "breakfast," Matthew led him on.

As they made their way around the fort, they were stopped several times by old friends. It was heartwarming to see so many of Alfred's old buddies happy to see him, but Matthew was eager to show Alfred the hospital, so they only stayed long enough not to be rude. When they finally made it to the small building, Matthew turned and smiled. "Sorry I've been holding out on you, but I wanted it to be a surprise." He opened the door and held it open for Alfred. "After you."

Alfred looked at his brother suspiciously before walking passed the guards and into the building, he saw many people working quickly and quietly with chemistry supplies mixing different chemicals and checking on bacterial samples. It was all very impressive, but what really drew Alfred's attention was not the men and women in the lab coats but the beings trapped behind a mixture of glass walls and steel bars. Infected, four of them, one for each corner of the room, each area had a hole just big enough for the infected to reach their arm through for what reason Alfred couldn’t even imagine.

Alfred balked and turned to run from the dangers of the room but his brother was blocking his way. Alfred tried to will himself to stay calm and pleaded with his brother, “We need to get out of here the infected are going to kill us. Mattie we need to go now.” But as he could see that his brother wasn’t planning on going anywhere Alfred began to panic, “Mattie we need to leave! Please let me out. I-I-” Alfred's breathing came out faster as it had the night before, he shoved his brother out of the way and ran out of the building as fast as he could before he began to take off down the street away from the infected.

"A-Al!" Alfred swept past Matthew before he even knew what was happening. He immediately took off after him and chased him down the streets. At any other times Alfred would have outmatched Matthew in speed, but the ex-soldier was still healing. Matthew called after him, but it was no use. Alfred reached the wall and began climbing. Matthew, like Arthur last night, hauled Alfred back down and restrained him around the middle. "Okay, Alfred. Have it your way. Let's go up top." Alfred intended to reach higher ground away from impending danger, and if that's what will put his mind at ease, Matthew was more than willing to oblige. They reached the base of one of the many towers overlooking the grounds beyond Haven. The guard posted at the stairs saluted Matthew and Alfred.

"At ease, soldier." Matthew tried to keep the weariness out of his voice. He hoped the entire town didn't see what just happened. "We're going to the tower." The guard nodded and stepped aside. Alfred and Matthew climbed several flights of stairs until they reached the topmost station they called the crow's nest. From there, the men could see the entire fort surrounded by walls, and beyond that a wasteland of nothingness that stretched for as far as the eye could see. Matthew picked up a pair of binoculars and handed them to Alfred. "We keep constant vigilance on the area. I think one of the reasons why they don't come around is that there's no place to hide come dawn." Matthew leaned on the bars and stared out where Alfred was surveying. "We haven't had any attacks for weeks. Our last encounter was a 100% success. No casualties or infections whatsoever. I trained my soldiers well." Matthew couldn't help the self-congratulatory smile. "Upon a sighting, we have a lot of time to prepare. And our armory is fully stocked." Matthew hated trading with the raiders for ammo, but sometimes there was no easy solution. 

Matthew was quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry for bringing you to the lab. I thought you'd be excited. We're breaking new ground on finding a cure. Arthur's probably with Dr. Zwingli right now."

Alfred stiffened at the mention of the laboratory not wanting to relive the image anytime soon. “You’re all idiots for keeping infected in these walls you’re going to get yourselves killed.” Alfred answered in a solemn tone. “You’re a fucking Second Lieutenant, Mattie, I didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to allow something like this to occur where you choose to cage yourself in.” Alfred put the binoculars down, and looked his brother dead in the eye still jittery but absolutely serious. “You need to either destroy those things or get them the hell out of the city. Mark my word Matt it’ll be one of those infected that bring your ruin.”

"I know the risks," Matthew replied evenly. "Their lower jaws have been removed so they can't bite. They're under constant surveillance, and the researchers are under strict procedural code when in physical range of them. Under no circumstances do I allow the researchers near the infected without me or someone I hand-picked to accompany them." Admittedly, Matthew was hoping for his brother's pride in his achievements and did not give up hoping for it. "We're so close, Alfred. I don't want to see another human fall to this disease."

“And what are you going to do even if you find this ‘cure’ Matt? Is it a vaccine? Can you protect all the people who are yet to be infected? Or would you just have perfectly good soldiers venture out into the field leaving the innocent civilians unprotected while your men get killed trying to distribute this vaccine?” Alfred shook his head looking more exasperated than anything now. 

“God Matt, are you really even thinking this through? Even if you could round up some sleeping darts and fill them with the cure, there’s no way you can cure every human on the planet. You’re going to run out of resources long before then. Once you get low on the resources what are you going to do pick and choose which humans have the right to be saved by your amazing cure? You’re being ridiculously idealistic and childish Matt. This plan won’t work. The sooner you accept that the better off you’ll be.”

Matthew's eyebrows pinched together in a disappointed frown. "This isn't like you, Al. You would never have given up." He was about to say more, but a commotion below them and the metal clattering of hurried steps up the stairs disrupted him. 

"Alfred!" Arthur huffed as he stood at the top of the stairs, winded from the climb. He shimmied away behind the soldiers as the guard joined them, panting just as hard. "Bugger off!"

"It's okay, Smith. He's with us." Matthew held up a placating hand before the guard could object. No more than two could be up on the tower, but he could make this exception. The guard saluted (albeit reluctantly) and retreated back to his post.

Matthew turned to Arthur. "What was that about?"

"I saw Alfred in the lab." Arthur had just come out of a meeting with the research director when he saw Alfred run out of the lab. He followed after him, worried that it was too much for the ex-soldier. Finding four active infected contained in a room alarmed Arthur, too, and to be honest he was half-outraged. But, when he saw what it did to Alfred, he knew it was too much too soon. "It's a dumb question to ask, but how are you feeling?" When Arthur bumped into Matthew this morning, he filled the twin in on Alfred's condition, and the man promised to do what he could to help Alfred. He thought Matthew knew Alfred better than anyone, but he still felt protective over Alfred on some level.

“Fine.” Alfred answered with a shrug. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He personally saw nothing wrong with his behavior, it was doubtful that he even realized he had developed PTSD. So he brushed off Arthur's concern as being overly worried for absolutely no reason. “We’re leaving in the morning. It’s not safe here not with those things here.”

"That's fine." Matthew's eyes shot wide at Arthur's ready agreement. "But, before you make the final decision, I want you to see what the lab is like. And no dashing out like a bat out of hell, hm?" Arthur grinned to soften his humor. He looked at Matthew, and Matthew smiled wearily and saluted. 

"I'll leave my big brother in your care for now. I'll see you tonight, Al." 

"Thank you, Matthew." 

Arthur linked arms with Alfred and descended the stairs. "The food is awful, isn't it? I never thought I'd miss cold cream of mushroom soup." He squeezed the inside of Alfred's elbow with his free hand before stopping to face him. Arthur carded his fingers through Alfred's clean hair, the morning sun buffing the cornflower to a shining gold. The ex-soldier's eyes were cloudy with fear, but it only made Arthur more determined to see them bright and playful again. 

The lab was set up in an underground structure with an emergency lock system at the surface. Alfred remembered the place being used to house refugees, but since he left more shelters were built to house them and a lab was built in its place. Arthur squeezed Alfred's hand encouragingly as he led him inside.

"This is where the tissue samples are stored. Having studied the samples, Dr. Zwingli's learned a lot about the virus and why only humans react to it. It's not airborne, which is a relief." They were in the storage room where an armed guard was watching their every move. After explaining who Alfred was, Arthur had permission from Dr. Zwingli himself to tour Alfred through the premise. The civilian stole a look at the guard before leaning in close to Alfred and speaking lowly. "Zwingli didn't disclose too much, but he hinted he's just months away from finding the antidote." Arthur stepped back and pulled Alfred along. "Now to the specimen room."

Doors fortified with steel were stationed at intervals down a long hall. Arthur signed them in before crossing the long hall. When they reach the door at the very end, two guards who recognized Alfred saluted him and unlocked it. 

"Alfred." Arthur cupped his face in his hands. "One infected is held in this room. Between us and the infected will be a nylon net and bullet-proof glass wall. It's also restrained by a collar bolted to the wall. Are you okay with that?"

Alfred looked uneasily at Arthur trying to decide if he would be okay. The idea of being in such close proximity with an infected was enough to make him want to turn around and run, but he had agreed to let Arthur show him around. Alfred cautiously nodded his head and moved to hold Arthur's hand in his as he let the Brit lead him into the room. 

The infected was as Arthur had said heavily restrained, from what Alfred could tell it was a young girl in her early teens. She wore a patient gown, though how they safely got her into that Alfred couldn’t fathom. The way she thrashed against her collar reminded Alfred of a rabid dog tied to a chain much too short to be comfortable. Alfred gently pulled back against the tight grip Arthur had taken hold of his hand, not wanting to venture far past the door. “W-who is she?” Alfred asked trying to take his mind off the close proximity of the infected.

Arthur curled his arm behind the small of Alfred's back but didn't push him any further. "That's Zwingli's sister. When she became infected, she asked her brother to use her for the cure." Arthur pressed close to him, reminded of Rhys. He'll never know what became of his brother.

Alfred's heart dropped thinking of the pain it must cause the researcher everyday to see his sister chained up like an animal to study. “How’d they get her in there without being bit? If this place is really so safe surely she wasn’t bitten inside the walls.”

"You see they removed her jaw. She /can't/ bite." The infected was on its hands and knees, gurgling at them. With her missing jaw, the sound bubbled and was nothing like the familiar growling. Arthur started when it abruptly lurched forward. The chain caught, and it was jostled back to the floor. Arthur stroked Alfred's stomach to calm him down. "It's okay. She's not going to hurt us."

Alfred balked when the infected lurked forward rationally he knew Arthur was right and the infected couldn’t hurt them but it made it no less terrifying watching her try. Alfred was shaking slightly but stayed beside Arthur trying to keep in mind that he promised to let Arthur show him around. “How much longer do we have to stay in this room?” Alfred asked eyes never leaving the infected. 

Arthur nodded. "We can go." 

Arthur blinked away the sunspots as they stepped outside. Their hands were clasped together, sweaty from nerves, but not unpleasant. He was glad to be out of there. Despite his cautious trust in the security of the infected, it still disturbed him to think that Haven held them within its walls. 

"Come on." Arthur pulled Alfred towards Ludwig's house. "It's high time you shave that scruff off."

It was a short walk between the laboratory and Ludwig’s home which did nothing to reassure Alfred's nerves but he let it go choosing to let his mind go blank and follow Arthur. Once they reached the house Arthur lead them into the bathroom and sat Alfred down on the closed-lid toilet seat. Alfred watched as Arthur gathered the supplies as though it was the most fascinating thing he had seen today. From the window Alfred could see the sun setting behind the wall and resigned himself to remaining within the camp if only for one more night.

Arthur set a bowl of water within arm's reach. He took out the washcloth and ringed out the warm water, then wrapped it around Alfred's stubble. Alfred didn't have a proper beard, but a decent scruff. As he waited, the civilian shook up a canister and took out a liberal swirl of shaving cream. He paused for a moment, coloring at the cheeks before sliding into Alfred's lap. It was just easier to shave this way! Beard softened and pores open, he chucked the washcloth in the sink and carefully slathered Alfred's stubble. He cleared his throat. "Hold still, now." Alfred didn't need to know he never did this to anyone else before.

They didn't speak. The sound of the shaver swirling in the water bowl and the slick sound of the razor against Alfred's skin filled the silence. They were both thinking about the lab, last night, the months they spent together and beyond that. As time passed, Arthur felt the mood soften, and he stroked Alfred's collarbone with his thumb as he diligently worked on his slight beard. He wiped up the residue and looked at his work. He cocked his head, seemingly satisfied. "You're not half-bad behind all that beard."

Alfred smiled lightly at the comment, “I used to have people hanging all over me, even got in the year book for prettiest eyes.” Alfred lightly laughed, before the smile fell off his face. “It seems like an eternity ago. It’s funny how quickly the world can change.”

"Indeed." Arthur smoothed the back of his fingers down Alfred's soft cheek one last time before standing up. "But, you still have pretty eyes." He looked out the window. "Goodness, the time flies. Are you meeting Matthew for night duty? May I come?" He searched Alfred's eyes imploringly.

Alfred shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t see why not. If it is really as safe as he claims it is then you should be fine. Just stay by me okay I still think it’s too dangerous here.” Alfred stood and led Arthur out of the bathroom and towards the front door where they found Mathew and Ludwig talking with one another. 

When they noticed the men walk out they stopped talking. Matthew got a chuckle out of Alfred's refreshed appearance while Ludwig simply raised a blond eyebrow. "You look better," Ludwig commented as Alfred and Arthur met up with them. He turned his judicious eye on Arthur. "You were not invited to accompany the Second Lieutenant."

"I volunteered myself." That just made Ludwig's brow raise higher. "I-if you'll authorize it."

Ludwig flicked his pale eyes to Matthew, Alfred, and back to Matthew. Matthew didn't seem to give any obvious cue, but something satisfied the mayor. He nodded his head curtly. 

"I value rules more than any of you, but you may join this time. Don't make me regret it." He looked at Alfred, and his eyes softened. "Feli helped me through the worst of it." An understanding seemed to pass between the mayor and the ex-soldier. Ludwig gave a perfunctory salute. "Have a safe patrol."

Arthur frowned, hating to be out of the loop but too stubborn to meddle in and demand they explain themselves.

Alfred raised his hand to quickly salute back to Ludwig before turning toward the door and heading towards the wall pulling Arthur’s hand along not wanting to let the Brit out of his sight. He slowed down just a tad to allow Mathew to direct them towards the exact location they would be stationed at for the night. He wanted to get this night over with because in the morning he would easily be able to convince Arthur to leave. Something would happen tonight he knew it something always happened; nothing could ever be this easy. 

Alfred wasn't the only one who irrationally feared for his safety. Arthur's heart thundered his chest and deafened his ears as they took the interior flight of stairs leading to the top of the wall. They reached the top of the parapet through a hatch and looked across the landscape. The civilian crept to the edge and poked his head over the railing. He marveled at the impressive height. It was a long way down. True, Haven was a former military outpost, and when the people of Haven re-colonized it most of the crucial buildings were already intact. But it was clear from the new houses and other structures that the knowledge of the old world wasn't lost. 

Matthew was on watch and took his leave. Arthur continued looking into the distance, a cool breeze refreshing his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep, fortifying breath. "I'm really glad I met you, Alfred. I know it's not the best time, but I wanted you to know that." Alfred wasn't in his right mind to appreciate his confession, but it didn't matter to him. If after tonight Alfred still wasn't convinced of their safety, he'd go with Alfred. He'd follow him anywhere. He just wanted to be with him, and to hell with the consequences. But most of all, he didn't want the ex-soldier to be alone.

Alfred looked down at Arthur and let a gentle smile grace his lips but it didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot and had dark bags under them that would take weeks of calm and peace to go away. Alfred looked out at the great expanses of land surrounding them, trees were far and few between meaning that if the infected managed to get in the city or even out of the lab getting the people residing inside all to safety would be a fool’s errand. 

Alfred silently stood beside Arthur sometimes walking along the wall to take another view of the area, but unlike he would have thought no attack came in the night. No signs of infected, no raiders, no danger. This bothered Alfred the most, it was eerily peaceful. Arthur was nodding off slightly where he stood and Alfred moved his arm around the other’s waist to hold him up. Every warning in his brain was telling him to run, but watching the men laugh and joke with each other reminded him of his old unit, the type of happiness that could only mingle in with the worst of circumstances. 

Alfred watched the sun rise over the horizon and decided he’d give his brother a chance. Arthur needed some normalcy back in his life Alfred could tell that with one glance at the Brit, but it didn’t mean Alfred wouldn’t take precautions. He’d sleep on the roof just like he always did even if winter would be upon them soon there were enough blankets that would keep him warm. He’d also take up Mathew’s offer of night duty; it would give him something to do on the nights he couldn’t sleep. Alfred still didn’t like the idea of staying in one place too long especially one that housed infected, but if only for Arthur's sake he would try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My computer almost deleted this I was about to cry. Thank god I was able to save it so here you guys go. Reviews are always appreciated. Until next time.


	11. Chapter 11

Time heals all wounds, as they say. Alfred's malady wasn't cured, and perhaps it never would be, but he was better. His deep-seated fear no longer compelled him to stay up at all hours patrolling the grounds, and Arthur and he could lie together in bed at night, although Alfred didn't always sleep. Weeks passed, and Arthur was accepted as an official citizen of Haven. What was shocking was that Gilbert was accepted, too, and it was a great relief to the (now ex-)raider knowing that he could be there to witness his little girl grow up. He and Elizaveta had since rekindled their romance and were as happy as ever. Arthur suspected there was less-than-legal business behind Gilbert's citizenship, although he doubted Ludwig had any part in it. Arthur couldn't judge; he couldn't say he wouldn't do the same thing. 

Last night Alfred had fallen asleep on his own, and he didn't wake up until Arthur roused him mid-morning the next day. Arthur crawled in next to him on top of the sheets and laid his head on Alfred's shoulder. "Wake up, you bum. I have something to tell you."

As Alfred roused and blinked his eyes into focus, he was met with two smiling green eyes. "I have some exciting news," Arthur said as he kissed Alfred's cheek.

Alfred yawned and snuggled up to Arthur, “Did we win the lottery?” Alfred asked with a goofy smile. “Or am I gonna be a dad?” Alfred's light laugh was interrupted by a yawn before cuddling closer to Arthur.

"Better." Arthur happily cuddled into Alfred’s toasty-warm embrace. The two were getting along brilliantly. They had not told each other the depth of their feelings for each other, but in the little things like late-morning cuddling, Arthur felt it. He was sure Alfred felt the same from him. 

Arthur made himself useful by putting his experience in medicine to use and researching with Dr. Zwingli. The civilian's knowledge of organic chemistry was elementary at best, but his participation in data collection and recording freed up a lot of time for Zwingli who was already stretched too thin. This morning Arthur received a letter via courier bringing news that after four long years, Zwingli's research was finally coming to a head.

“Oh what could be better than those?” Alfred asked letting Arthur's excitement pour over into him. “Well come on don’t leave me hanging here. What’s up?” Alfred prodded when Arthur did nothing but smile at him he was completely awake now and anxious to hear the exciting news the Brit had brought with him.

Arthur rolled his eyes at Alfred's excitability, but his smile gave away his amusement. "Zwingli's found the cure. He's sure of it." For the past several months Arthur made an effort to shirk around any talk about the lab, knowing how ill at ease Alfred was about Haven holding infected. But, Arthur was too thrilled to hold it in.

“Has he tested it out yet? I mean how is he sure if it really works?” There it was again Alfred's constant pessimism, it had gotten better after the months in Haven but it was still there always waiting to rear its ugly head. 

"Not in a human host, no. Technically, we've /had/ the antidote for years. But, up until now Zwingli's never been able to complete eradicate it before it builds a resistance and regenerates into a new viral strain. I suppose it's premature to say we have a /cure,/ but it's a breakthrough, it really is." As the unfortunately reality set in, Arthur sat back on his heels, sobered up. "We won't know until we try it, huh?" Dragging his fingers through his hair and mussing it up, the civilian sighed. "Infecting humans is out of the question, and the antidote is only salient during the first stages of infection." The unspoken words were there: they were going to have to go out into the field and search for the human hosts themselves.

“So good men are going to have to leave these walls and inject recently infected people with no guarantee that it will work? And what of the infected? Are they so far gone that even the injection won’t work on them? Not even an IV drip of the solution to see if they can at least diminish the effects of the infection?” Alfred threw questions out that were hard to answer without any solid proof, but at the same time made sense and made it harder to be excited about the recent developments.

“I’m sorry, Arthur. It’s just that I’ve seen so much bad and seen so many claim they have found a ‘cure’ that I find it hard to even let myself hope.” Alfred sighed and looked down at the bed letting a sort of quiet echo through the room. He looked up at Arthur suddenly a small smile on his face, and announced, “But if you’re certain then I’ll trust you. I’ll lead the expedition. Mattie needs to stay here anyways and protect the city.”

"Al, it's great to hear you say that..." he trailed off, meaning to go about this sensitively, "but, given what you've been through, it's understandable that you're still healing." He gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, hoping to convey his sympathy to Alfred. He didn't look down on Alfred for the nightmares and flashbacks, but that didn't mean he didn't see them for what they were; signs that he was far from healthy.

“Look Arthur I know I’m screwed up. No need to beat around the bush, but even screwed up I have way more experience than any of the others in the field. If this mission is to go smoothly than I need to be there running it along.” Alfred leaned over pressing a kiss to Arthur's forehead before resting their foreheads together. “I’ll be fine and really in the scheme of things what are a few extra months of therapy?” Alfred added with a laugh. He placed a chaste kiss on Arthur's lips and ruffled the Brit’s hair before he finalized their conversation, “Let’s get some sleep you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow and you need to be in top condition.” Alfred lay back down in bed letting Arthur get up to get ready to join him.

Arthur slanted his eyes away, a crease pulling at his brows as he fought back the cluster of objections bubbling in his throat. Having nursed Alfred back to health, literally and figuratively, the civilian couldn't help but feel protective over him. But, it wasn't his call. Alfred was going to do what he wanted to do. "I'm coming, too, you know," he added casually as if naturally following through with Alfred's logic. He folded his clothes on the dresser and snuck under the covers with Alfred. "Someone who's trained needs to record the effects."

Alfred hummed as though he was speaking with a small child informing him that he was going to stay up past his bed time because they were all grown up now. “We’ll see Arthur.” Alfred rolled over so his back was facing Arthur indicating he would not allow further arguing over the topic. Within a few short minutes Alfred was asleep again lightly snoring and murmuring nonsensical words.

Arthur frowned sourly at Alfred's nonchalant dismissal. He sidled up against the ex-soldier and pressed flush along the curve of his strong back. "Idiot." He kissed the back of his neck. "Don't underestimate me."

~

The next morning Alfred lay alone in bed tossing and turning from another nightmare a cold sweat broke across his brow. Arthur had woken up a fair amount of time ago and gone to eat whatever measly breakfast the mess hall had conjured up. Alfred saw images of people being slaughtered before his very eyes, their blood spraying everywhere. He listened to the sounds of their screams he tried to drown them out but he couldn’t they just kept getting louder and louder.

Alfred awoke with a start sitting up in bed looking around quickly, it took him a few minutes to calm down. He was glad Arthur wasn’t around to tell him ‘I told you so,’ it was the last thing he wanted to hear considering the impending danger of leaving the walls again. Alfred rested his head down on his knees curling in on himself, as he often did subconsciously after his nightmares and flashbacks, and took some deep breaths willing himself to be calm and ready to deal with the day.

A crash in the front of the house was heard followed by a flurry of racing footsteps. "A-Alfred!" Matthew searched through the house, rubbernecking in the doorways before finally reaching the bedroom. He almost collided into the dressed in his haste. "Did you hear? They found a cure!" Matthew laughed, he was so happy. "Zwingli has yet to make an official announcement, but word's gotten around to-- oh, sorry. Um, is this a bad time?" He felt awful realizing too late that Alfred had just woken from another nightmare. Arthur confided in him a few times about it but never about how severe they were. Alfred appeared genuinely distressed, and like all times before his heart ached seeing his twin in pain.

Alfred slowly lifted his head from his legs before waving his hand to dismiss any worry his brother might have. “I’m fine, just not ready to get up yet. Anyways it’s not even a cure it’s more of an antidote. It only works on stage one of the infection so those who are already bitten and have been infected for a long time are still screwed.” Alfred lifted the covers and got out of bed heading over to the dresser to get ready for the day. 

“Also since testing this new antidote is going to require going out into the field, I’ll go with a team of my choosing and a researcher. Not Arthur though. I don’t want him risking his life for a ‘cure’ that’s not guaranteed to work.” Alfred pulled on his pants and walked towards the door while pulling on his shirt, somehow while they had lived in Haven Arthur had convinced Alfred he needed a pair of sandals for casual wear when not on duty, Alfred quickly slipped them on and headed towards the mess hall. “Come on I’m starving we can talk about it more on the way there.”

"You seem to know more than me." Matthew smiled ruefully as they walked to the mess hall. It wasn't hard to figure out Arthur clued him in. 

As Alfred took his tray of food to the tables, Matthew sat across from him. "Arthur's not going to like it." Matthew sighed just thinking of the civilian's wrath. He never knew anyone as stubborn as his brother until now. "You know he'll be very hurt if you go out of your way to ensure Arthur won't be recruited into the dispatch team." He took a sip of his water.

“He’ll get over it. It’s too dangerous for a civilian to come along. Arthur is brilliant, but I need a researcher who won’t drag the team down if it comes down to skill and strength in a fight. Got anyone like that up your sleeve?” Alfred asked as he spooned a mouthful of his mushy breakfast and grimaced, the food only every seemed to get worse here.

Matthew opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off. 

"--Oh, there are many. You have Kiku Honda; he was a scout for years until he became Dr. Zwingli's right-hand man. And there's Eduard Von Bock who was a communications operator in the army." Arthur, who had been in the mess hall, overheard Alfred's diatribe as he made his way over to greet them. The civilian was standing behind Alfred with his arms crossed, fidgeting with overwrought energy that badly needed an outlet. Preferably on Alfred. When Alfred looked up, the siren flash of Arthur's green eyes promised blood. He was trying very badly not to show his hurt and sorely failed. 

"Shall I catalogue the entire research team? Because I suppose anyone is better than me." He looked like he was about to go on but abruptly cut himself off. He cut his gaze away, hating to look into the eyes of someone who would never see him as more than deadweight. "It's not like I care. You can do what you want." With as much dignity as he could muster, Arthur swept away as fast as he could without arousing suspicion.

Matthew's face was as pale as a ghost. He dropped his face in his arms and groaned. He was barely heard under his muffled shirtsleeves. "Oh my god, Alfred. Did you /have/ to say it that way?" As terrible as it made him feel, Matthew agreed. The civilian was inexperienced and was more useful in the area of his skill set; medicine. But, Matthew would have made every effort to assure Arthur that he wasn't useless. As unaffected as the civilian made himself to be, the second lieutenant picked up on that insecurity almost immediately.

“Arthur's rational he’ll understand once he gets over his initial anger.” Alfred sighed still a bit shaken up by his dream he rested his head in his hands. “I can’t have it happen again Matt. I can’t lose someone else. If he was there with me I couldn’t concentrate on the mission, I’d be more concerned about keeping him safe then keeping my men safe.” Alfred looked up at Mathew pleading with his eyes for his twin to understand. “I need to know he’s safe Matt. It’s the only way I’ll be able to rationally think during the mission.”

"Do you dream about it?" Matthew gently took Alfred's hand away and looked at him. "I promise to keep him safe, Al, under the condition that you take care of yourself, too. It wouldn't be fair to Arthur." He paused. "What are the dreams?"

“Imagine watching everyone you ever knew or care about dying over and over again their blood spraying everywhere. Imagine watching them scream begging you to save them and yet you aren’t able to move. Imagine the worst death you’ve ever seen and multiple that by ten.” Alfred looked away and huffed a bitter laugh. “Imagine going insane on the inside but still having to wake up smiling everyday because you don’t want to worry him. It’s the worst torture I can imagine and I live it every day.”

"We've all been there, Al." Matthew patted his hand and stood. "I'll send my best soldiers with you. This is the most important mission you've ever been on. I trust you." He gave one last smile before leaving. He had a lot of things to prepare.

Alfred smiled and watched his brother leave he sat at the table for a while longer picking at his breakfast until he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer, he had to go talk to Arthur. He stood up with a sigh and deposited his food tray at one of the designated spots. He had a few places in mind where Arthur might be and decided to wonder around between them until he found the Brit.

Arthur had apparently been very angry as it took Alfred nearly an hour to actually find the Brit though he should have expected the Brit to work diligently even flaming mad that’s just who Arthur was. When Alfred saw Arthur hunched over his work, shoulders slumped and sniffling quietly his heart dropped. He felt bad about being as harsh as he was, but it was in their best interests that Arthur stayed behind. Alfred quietly walked over to Arthur and slipped his arms around the Brit’s shoulders loosely hugging him from behind. He didn’t say a word he knew Arthur was upset and had the right to be he just hoped Arthur would forgive him quickly.

Arthur froze, his shoulder seizing within the ex-soldier's embrace. Then, with an irritable swat he batted Alfred away. His back was to the man, but no doubt he heard Arthur sniffling. The civilian dashed the spare tears off his face before talking. "Fuck off before I castrate you with this scalpel." Without sparing Alfred a glance, Arthur held the medical apparatus up in demonstration.

Alfred sighed, “Look Arthur you’re brilliant, truly you are, but even you have to admit in a firefight you’d be clueless. This mission is dangerous and I need to know your safe or I’ll end up fucking something up worrying over you. If you’d have been a soldier in the past or even an army doctor I’d take you with me in a heartbeat, but you’re not and that’s okay. In fact it’s more than okay. I’m glad you never had to witness the horrors of war, though I can’t say the world as it stands is much better.” Alfred knelt down besides Arthur and looked up to him; he knew Arthur's threat was an empty one so he didn’t fear for his safety in the slightest. “I am sorry. I could have worded it better, but you know what I’ve said is true, even if you want to deny it.”

That seemed to set his ire into a full flame. "You can't keep protecting me like a child! How can I even prove my worth if you keep me caged in like a bird?!" He slapped the table so hard his palms stung. "No doubt that lunch date with your brother was an effort to circumvent any chance I had of joining." He picked up a pencil and ticked a mark so hard the tip snapped off and flew across the room. "Bollocks." He snatched a utility knife and began whittling the pencil tip. "Just--/leave./ You're distracting me from something very important that your G.I. Joe, Neanderthal brain couldn't possibly comprehend, even if I drew it in pictures," he growled as he roughly shaved off the wood bringing up the lead in the pencil.

Alfred frowned at Arthur's first comments he had expected Arthur to be angry, livid even, but he wasn’t about to change his decision just because Arthur found it to be unfair. At the Neanderthal segment though, he smiled barely containing a laugh as he moved to sit on a chair near Arthur. If Arthur wanted to be stubbornly angry Alfred could stubbornly force the other to forgive him. “Try me. You’re looking at a physics major from Harvard. I got to go there for a whole year before the war hit and everything went to hell. Best year of my life.”

"A convenient excuse for flunking out." Arthur cut a glare at Alfred who made himself at home. He whittled the pencil to a pristine point and went back to work. If he snubbed the lout, then he'd go away on his own. So it seemed what the civilian was thinking, until he finally asked with a curious lilt, "Were you in a fraternity?"

“Nah no one would let me join. They said I was too much of a kid at 17 for them. The woes of being smart I suppose. I skipped second grade which is why I entered college pretty young.” Alfred smiled knowing slowly Arthur was growing less irritated with him. “My parents were freaked out by the idea of me living on my own but they put up with it when they found out I was accepted to Harvard. I was getting straight A’s mind you, but all good things must come to an end mine ended when the war began.” Alfred finished quietly slipping back into deep thought as he often did every time he brought up the war. His eyes held a glossy far away appearance and his expression became neutral.

Arthur remembered Harvard being one of the universities he had his sights on for continuing his education in English literature. They would have never cross paths, as Alfred would have been alumina several years before Arthur was even a freshman. When Alfred stopped talking and closed himself off, Arthur looked up from his paperwork. He gave the man a helpless look before distracting Alfred by sitting in his lap. He guided Alfred's head to his shoulder like he'd done so many times before and held him. "I'm still pissed at you," he reminded the ex-soldier even as he hugged him tighter. "You're a selfish twat."

Alfred gently nuzzled against Arthur's neck enjoying the warmth and calm that followed from being held so securely after his memories or flashbacks tormented him. “But I’m your selfish twat.” Alfred closed his eyes trying to coax away the memories; he took a deep shuddering breath before murmuring so quietly he could scarcely be heard, “I’m sorry.”

Arthur remained silent and continued petting his hair. Although his pride tore him to shreds for letting Alfred get away with what he did, he knew holding a grudge over Alfred was frivolous. He knew he was important to Alfred (though how important, he was only left to guess), and Alfred was very important to him. "Stay in the now, and stop kicking yourself over what-ifs. You have me, at least." He closed his eyes and kissed Alfred’s forehead.

“I can’t do it. I can’t let you go because if something happened to you…” Alfred shook his head trying to rid himself of the very idea. “If something happened to you I’d never forgive myself. I can’t handle being responsible for the death of another person I love. You can hate me if you want to because of this, but I just can’t Arthur.” Alfred wrapped his arms tightly around Arthur's waist pressing the Brit as close to his body as Alfred could manage. Alfred left a trail of feather light kisses from the base of Arthur's neck to his ear before whispering, “I’m sorry you’re just too important to me. I love you,” Alfred gently kissed Arthur's neck again, “far too much for my own good.”

Arthur inhaled a sharp breath, heard it rattle in his lungs. He hugged Alfred just as tightly, as if holding him close will delay their inevitable parting. "Why now? Why did you have to say that before you leave?" Every night, Arthur told Alfred he loved him as he slept. It was easier saying it to the ex-soldier's sleeping face; he didn't want to see the guilt in Alfred's eyes as he told Arthur he was still in love with his dead lover or couldn't feel love anymore. Now on the eve of Alfred's departure, hearing his confession was too bittersweet. He almost wished Alfred never said anything. It just made the man's absence that much harder.

“Because you need to know. I’ll come back I promise you, because if I don’t I know you’ll drag my ass back here.” Alfred smiled and pulled back some looking Arthur in the eyes, “I’m going to be okay after all I am a First Lieutenant, I’ve been through worse.” Alfred brought his hand up to wipe away the slowly building tears in Arthur's eyes. He cupped Arthur's face and gently kissed his nose before resting their foreheads together. “I’ll be fine.”

"It's not you I don't trust," Arthur sulked as he indulged them with a small nuzzle. "It's the blokes you're babysitting." However capable they were, Alfred was accountable for the livelihood of several soldiers. Arthur privately admitted that he was no better, arguably worse in every away, but the fact remained that the mission came first, and one soldier was nothing compared to the unit as a whole. Alfred was First Lieutenant-- in a life or death situation, it was his call whether the mission was more important than himself and his charges. "I don't care if the cure is a failure. Without question, I'd choose a life with you over the perseverance of the human race. I'm rotten, aren't I?"

“Only if I am,” Alfred leaned forward and kissed Arthur's lips, “I would do the exact same. I don’t care if this world comes to an end so long as you’re safe that’s all that matters.” 

Arthur pursed his lips against Alfred's before moving away. He stood up and gestured Alfred to do the same. "You got what you came for, so get out," he said around a badly hidden smile. Alfred was so charming it was obscene. He could imagine that winning smile getting him out of all sorts of mischief, just like now. "I truly do have work to finish before tomorrow. I, um... I'll see you tonight, then."

Alfred smiled and nodded, “Until tonight.” Alfred kissed Arthur one last time before leaving the Brit to his work. He decided to pay his brother a visit and help get things in gear for the coming mission it was only right that Alfred had a say in the team that could very well hold the future of mankind in their hands. Alfred hoped this mission went smoothly he’d like to be out and back home to Arthur within a week, two weeks max, but things never went according to plan. Life never seemed to want to cut anyone a break; it’d make things much too easy.

It was a short walk over to the guard station from the lab, inside Alfred found Mathew and a few select others mulling over who was best suited for this type of delicate mission. “Mayor, Mattie.” Alfred greeted announcing his presence in the room.

Matthew greeted Alfred with a soft hello. Ludwig looked up and nodded curtly before turning back to the list at hand. Matthew and Ludwig were deliberating on a list of prospective soldiers on call for dispatch. On the table was a sizable stack of personal profiles detailing the history and evaluations of each soldier on call for dispatch tomorrow. It was delicate work, critically assessing each soldier's strengths and weaknesses and matching those to other soldiers who possibly complimented them. Because they aimed to build a well-rounded group, it didn't guarantee the best and the brightest were recruited. It was already decided that of all the available doctors, Dr. Honda was best suited for the mission. Truthfully, Dr. Zwingli himself was ideal, but the doctor was staying behind to improve on the vaccine. So far, the vaccine was --hypothetically-- only effective within a small window of time. At this time, the vaccine only halted the progress of the virus; the doctor aimed to reverse the effects marking the later stage of infection, including the deteriorated cells eventually leading to the organs shutting down. 

As Alfred joined them, he took a good look at his brother. He was relieved to see Alfred looked okay; all worked out with Arthur, then. They shared a private smile between them before Ludwig went back to business. "Jones, we've built a list of the men and women we recommend accompanying you and Dr. Honda. Please look it over and tell me what you think." The mayor slid the list over the Alfred.

Alfred glanced over the names briefly to see if he recognized anyone, none of the names struck a bell except one. “Toris made it here okay? Wow I haven’t seen that guy in forever. Did he just get here? I haven’t seen him around.” Alfred briefly scanned through the list again before shrugging his shoulders, “I don’t recognize anyone else so just give me some good close range fighters and a couple of snipers and I should be good. Oh and Toris, he was a good buddy of mine back in the war best damn scout I’ve ever seen.”

Ludwig nodded in approval and made a note. "Will do. Williams and I will have the most capable fighters ready for you. And Jones." He scrutinized the ex-soldier in his icy gaze. "Good luck."

“Thanks Ludwig. I trust your opinion you’ve always been a stickler for detail.” Alfred smiled before turning to his brother. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight right brosif? Pretty sure I can drag Art away from his work for a bit so we can eat together.”

"I look forward to it." Matthew called out just before Alfred left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I almost forgot today was Wednesday. Well at least I remembered so here you guys go. As always reviews are very much appreciated. Until next time.


	12. Chapter 12

Arthur groused miserably. "Remind me /why/, First Lieutenant Jones, did you drag me out of the lab if I was just going to play spectator to your culinary skills?" The civilian was leaning against the kitchen table with his arms crossed, watching Alfred prepare dinner in their home. After a detour to the market, Alfred swept Arthur straight out of the lab, declaring that they were going to have a "family dinner" and Arthur was invited, no exceptions. Being as how Alfred literally pulled him out by his arm, Arthur had no choice.

Arthur eyed the food already set out. Judging by the copious hoards of food on the table, it looked like Alfred cashed in their entire ration book. The ex-soldier just took the chicken out of the stone oven (an entire chicken! Arthur could have fainted in bliss). Arthur closed his eyes and sniffed the air. He could have laughed, he was so excited. 

As Alfred gave the chicken one last baste, Arthur crept up from behind and held Alfred snug around the middle. He nipped the back of his neck with his blunt teeth. "I'll be honest with you; Matthew better be on time, because I won't wait."

Alfred moved the chicken over to the table that he had Arthur set earlier. “He wouldn’t miss my last good meal before going on the mission. After this it’s back to crappy rations for all of us until the end of the month. Good thing it’s the second day of this month. One less day of crappy mush food.” Alfred when over and checked on the boiling potatoes deciding they were done enough to be tossed in the herb sauce he made earlier he carefully poured the hot water out of the pot and finished tossing the potatoes before he put them on a platter waiting on the table. 

All together they would have chicken, boiled potatoes, bread rolls, green beans, even some cranberry sauce that he had to trade six vegetable rations for. It all reminded him of Christmas dinner back when he was a boy, he would have to thank Feliciano for lending him the dishes it really helped make the meal. Alfred pulled something out of the ice chest and popped it into the oven setting the timer for thirty minutes before turning back to Arthur. “He still has five minutes before he’s late can you wait that long?”

"Not a minute longer," Arthur promised as he watched Alfred dally about the kitchen. It was so... domestic. He realized he liked it-- although he would have liked to have participated in more than just setting the table. Alfred beseeched the honor of cooking all to himself. 

Arthur was standing idly munching on a lone green bean when Matthew arrived. Arthur let him in, and they hugged before Arthur let him into the house. As they passed into the kitchen, Matthew gave the civilian an apologetic look, but Arthur just wordlessly shook his head and smiled assuredly. He didn't hold it against Matthew for taking him out of the unit. At the dining table, everything was perfectly laid out. Matthew sighed heavenly as he took in the sight and smell of the wonderful meal. "Reminds me of Christmas dinner, eh, Al?" 

They sat, and Matthew took up his water glass and held it out. The others did the same. "To a successful journey that will mark the turning point in history."

“Cheers,” Alfred called out before taking a sip of his water. “You’re right Mattie but at least at this dinner you’re not sniveling over mom telling you that you can’t put maple syrup on your potatoes.” Alfred grinned and carved a slice off the chicken off and placed it on Arthur's plate first as the Brit seemed to be drooling over the food. 

Having so much good food at once was a blessing. They barely talked, sneaking in a sentence or two between bites. Otherwise, idle chatter barely interrupted the muted clicks of dinnerware as the three devoured their food. 

Arthur pushed his plate back and sighed with the satisfaction only felt with a full stomach. "I can't eat anymore. That was lovely, Alfred." 

"There's always leftovers tomorrow," Matthew supplied with a smile. "Likewise, Al. I had no idea Mom's cooking lessons stuck with you."

The dull sound of the kitchen timer ringing caused Alfred to stand up. “They did more than just stick with me.” Alfred walked into the kitchen and came out a few minutes later with a crisp golden pie. “As people say there’s always room for desert. Anyone up for some homemade apple pie? One of the farmers down in town had a successful apple harvest he gave me some of them and a bit of cinnamon for two meat rations.”

"Alfred!" Matthew squawked with charged exuberance. He scooted to the edge of his seat; he was suddenly not feeling so stuffed anymore. Arthur rocked back against the chair and groaned, covering his face and admonishing himself for over-eating and having no room for pie. Face still in hands, Arthur shook his head emphatically. "No. I can't eat anymore." He glared at Alfred between his fingers. "You didn't tell me, you wanker."

"Now, now," Matthew placated gently. He didn't want to be caught between a domestic dispute. He turned to Alfred. "I would love a slice."

The night went on well. The brothers traded stories of their youth, and Arthur tried not to look rapt with fascination as Matthew recounted the mischief Alfred got them into time and again when they were boys. Arthur could hardly believe some of the stories, but he didn't take Matthew for one to lie or exaggerate. It felt good to laugh and forget the fear and uncertainty come morning. 

Matthew stayed far later than he planned. When he realized how late it was he apologized profusely and took his leave, it was already late into the night. Alfred and Arthur cleaned up the mess, salvaging the food for leftovers. And, when they finally got to bed, Arthur flopped boneless on top of the mattress. He could barely nestle under the covers. "I'm knackered. I could sleep for days."

“Wouldn’t that be nice? You could stay asleep until I come home and you’d never know I was gone.” Alfred laughed lightly to himself, “Then again spending all those ration tickets would go to waste.” He slowly climbed into bed cuddling close to Arthur trying not to think about tomorrow.

"I'll be fine dining in the canteen for months," Arthur's bitching was muffled into the pillow, but there was no venom behind it. As Alfred settled in against the civilian, a green eye peeked above his burrow. "Speaking of sleep. Wake me up before you leave." He didn't want to wake up alone, and he suspected Alfred would have spirited himself away without saying a final farewell.

“Of course Arthur.” Alfred murmured sleepily as he gently kissed Arthur's forehead. He yawned loudly and pulled Arthur flush against his chest, he nuzzled into the Brit’s hair before becoming still. A few minutes later soft snores could be heard coming from the American as he fell into a deep restful sleep.

As Alfred nuzzled his hair, Arthur hid his smile against Alfred's chest. He kept it to himself, but he loved the small affections Alfred showered on him these times. He stayed up a while longer, head pillowed on Alfred's chest and feeling the steady rise and fall, his ear close to his heart. His eyelids grew heavy, and the last thing he saw was the moonlight's cool glow cast across the slope of Alfred's shoulder.

He ran. He was running from something. Something was chasing him. No matter how far he ran, he just couldn't get away. Arthur looked back. Behind him was a sea of infected, frothing at the mouths and baying in their hollow lungs. And they were /running/. Arthur kept his eyes ahead of him and focused on escaping. But no matter what he did he couldn't shake them. They were gaining on him. Someone yelled something, and Arthur looked back. Alfred was behind him. He called out something, but Arthur couldn't hear it.

Arthur was twitching in his sleep. As the nightmare continued, his corporeal body moved with his dreaming body. His foot jerked; he ran for his life. 

His whimpers were screams as his dream self witnessed Alfred's ankle give out on him again. Arthur turned back, but before he could help the zombies rushed the ex-soldier. They grabbed him everywhere, and Alfred screamed. Arthur tried to save him, but as he ran, time slowed down to an aching eternity. He could barely move; everything was like molasses. The distance between them stretched, pulling them farther and farther apart. Still, Arthur could barely run. And as the monsters tore into Alfred's flesh, Arthur could only cry out for forgiveness.

All at once Arthur tore out of his dream and woke up with a gasp. He immediately sat up and checked his arms, frantically checking for bite marks. He fingered the back of his shoulders, around the back of his neck and up his face. He screamed when a pair of hand clutched his shoulders. His first instinct was to scramble backwards and kick out. His heel launched straight into Alfred's gut, and the man grunted and doubled over on the pillows. 

Arthur, huddled against the wall and frantic of breath, slowly came back to reality. "Oh, fuck. Al, I'm so sorry." Arthur crawled over to him and touched his stomach. He hadn't attacked Alfred in a long while. He had his fair share of nightmares, too. 

Then, Arthur remembered his dream, and he burst into tears. "Alfred," he sobbed as his tender grip turned desperate. He threw himself against the ex-soldier and cried, begging the man to understand, to listen to him. "Alfred, /please/ let me go with you. I won't get in the way. Have faith in me. When you were injured I brought you back to health. I practically carried you across the state line. I /killed/ for you!" 

All the insecurities he had been holding back came flooding out. Ever since he could remember, he had felt worthless. Because he was his mother's favorite, his brothers bullied him to the point of cruelty. It only got worse when the infection spread; they made it quite clear to him that sheltering him in was an act of charity, and that if he wasn't their blood then nothing would hold them back from tossing him out. Arthur was dead weight, a burden, just another mouth to feed. He had no chance to prove himself because they would not give him one. It was only Arthur's pride that refused him to give up. 

But right now he couldn't have been more pathetic. His pride was gone; nothing held him back. He begged Alfred. "W-what do I have to do to be good enough for you? Why am I still so worthless t-to you?" It killed him to love someone so desperately but be seen as nothing more than a burden, some /thing/ to protect. Just like with his brothers. He hid his face in Alfred's neck, and still he cried. He always tried not to show real distress in front of Alfred, knowing the man was stressed enough as it was. He wanted to be strong for Alfred, though it was Alfred who wore the plastic smile. "I just want to be with you. Please, Alfred. You can't possibly promise you'll return. If you won't stay, let me go with you."

Alfred's shocked expression softened as he listened to Arthur's pleas, he wrapped his arms around the Brit and held him close as he began to speak. “Whoever said you weren’t good enough for me? Worthless?” Alfred gently scoffed, “Hardly. I’ve never met a man so widely versed on medical practices without having a degree in them. You may think there’s something wrong with not being able to fight like I can, but in reality once the war is won and things go back to normal, who do you think really gets the pat on the back? Certainly not the soldiers we’re just mindless murderers. No people appreciate the doctors, writers, and teachers; anything that helps heal and teach society is adored and held in high regard. Me? I’m just a back country boy who is a great shot, I’m nothing special.”

Alfred shrugged his shoulders and gently stroked Arthur's hair. He pushed Arthur back some so that he could look the other in the eyes, “Arthur you are the most amazing, beautiful person I have ever known. I wouldn’t change one thing about you. Not even your attitude.” Alfred smiled and kissed Arthur's forehead, “Never think that you’re not good enough for me. You are a thousand times better than a man like me deserves, but I’d fight tooth and nail for you to make sure you won’t ever leave me. I’m just selfish that way.”

Arthur could only shake his head. Answering him was useless; when he tried to speak, the words caught in his hiccups. His voice simply couldn't come through. He lowered his head in shame, fringe curtaining his crying eyes. He didn't believe Alfred, not really. The man's ego was as fragile as glass-- the abominable snowman could be "too good for him," for god's sake. 

"I appreciate the sentiment," he said truthfully. But Alfred still wouldn't give him what he wanted. "I won't wait for you to come back like some army wife. Even if I died out there, my life wouldn't have been empty because I would have you. If you die, I'll die." In his mind's eye, he saw Alfred dying in his dream. Fresh tears rimmed his eyes and fell as easily as rain. It wasn't a dream. It was an omen. The civilian sniffled and cleared his breathing. He had to pull himself together. He nuzzled up Alfred's jaw line, gently dragged his lower lip over his chin before sealing them over Alfred's lips. "What do I need to do to convince you?" He kissed him again.

“Nothing, because I won’t change my mind.” Alfred sighed at Arthur's behavior before pushing the other back some. “Arthur, didn’t I take a leap and trust you in staying here? Didn’t I trust that you wouldn’t leave me to die back in that bunker? Didn’t I already prove that I keep my word?” Alfred waited a moment for Arthur to slowly nod his head before continuing. “Then don’t I deserve the same trust?” Alfred pulled the other close and stroked his hair listening to the quiet hiccupping of Arthur's breath. “How many times have you held me like this? Gently stroking my hair and telling me it was only a dream. And that’s exactly what it was Arthur. Just a dream.”

Alfred held him as the tears continued to fall, and as they tracked down his flushed face, Alfred patiently wiped them away. Arthur closed his eyes and let Alfred's soothing presence clear away the doubt, if only for now. His breathing returned to normal with only a few brief hiccups interrupting his steady breath. 

"Sorry for kicking you." He rubbed the sore spot on Alfred's stomach. He sighed. "Hadn't done that in a while." Arthur pecked his cheek in apology. He didn't move away but kept his face close, and when Alfred turned to him Arthur kissed him properly, this time without pretense or bribery.

“Don’t worry about it.” Alfred murmured as their lips parted. “I’ve probably done worse without realizing it.” Alfred laughed lightly, “Remember that time Ludwig had to knock me out because I was sending the town into an uproar by running around screaming about how the end is near.” He shook his head and rested it on Arthur's shoulder. “It would have been funnier if I hadn’t so fully believed it back then.”

"It frightened me. I didn't think you'd get better." He confessed this to Feliciano once. The Italian understood, having been there with Ludwig while he at his worst. To the few he felt comfortable enough to confide in, nothing they said to him was in the least bit helpful. When it came to advice on how to help your partner who was trapped in the prison of his mind, nothing was less inspiring than being told to 'just be there for him.' Be there to what? Witness his descent into madness? It seemed like only yesterday when he pretended to be asleep when Alfred "woke up" from another restless night, watching how truly broken Alfred looked when wasn't pretending to be happy for Arthur's sake. 

"I love you, Alfred. I love you selfishly. If they only knew how easily I'd raze the lab to the ground if it meant being with you." He cupped the back of Alfred's hand under his and swirled his thumb in his palm.

“I’m sure they have an idea. What with your firey temper and all. I think they’ve added an extra guard to the premises since you started working there as well. Hmm you must be very concerning.” Alfred gently kissed Arthur's collar bone, there was a peaceful lull in their conversation before Alfred spoke again. “I promise Arthur I’ll come back and the antidote will be a huge success. Everything will work out perfectly.” Alfred lifted his head and noticed the light coming through the window of their bedroom. “I need to get ready.” He admitted reluctantly.

Arthur wouldn't let Alfred. Not just yet. He turned Alfred's jaw just so and forced their lips together again. He breathed him in deeply, imprinting into memory this one moment; Alfred's taste and smell and everything that made up his being. Arthur leaned his weight on him and pushed them back onto the mattress. He fell on top of Alfred without breaking the kiss.

Alfred ran his hand up through Arthur's hair and held him flush against his body with the other. “We really shouldn’t be doing this.” Alfred huskily whispered as they finally broke for air. His body speaking more truth than the American would allow his voice. The slight tenting in Alfred's pants showed his true feelings, he didn’t want to be apart from Arthur as much as Arthur didn’t want to be apart from him, but if they only had a few hours left together they may as well make the most of it. Alfred pulled their lips together again as his other hand drifted down to Arthur's ass, Alfred kneaded the soft flesh eliciting a small moan from Arthur.

Arthur hummed an appreciative moan, luxuriating in the sweet taste of Alfred's mouth. He ran his nails up Alfred's scalp and held his head down as he sucked his tongue. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as their hands became bolder, fervent. As he lowered his hips, he made sure his cock aligned with Alfred's. And as he rolled them slowly, forcefully, he rubbed his shaft up the full length of Alfred's. Even though the thin fabrics of boxers and sleepwear, he could feel the shape of it. Their lips parted with a small, wet sound. "Not until you apologize properly, First Lieutenant." He sat up and straddled Alfred's lap, his boxers riding up his hips.

Alfred whined a bit slightly annoyed at the tease Arthur was being. “I thought I already was,” Alfred replied as he rolled their hips together again. “In fact I thought I already did. Three times now!” He sighed exasperated, “How many more times do I have to say it before you’ll let it go?”

Arthur closed his eyes and rode Alfred's thrust. Lovely. "Until I'm satisfied." He smiled bemusedly to himself. 

He stood up, shimmying out of his boxers with ease and shucking them across the room with his foot. He went to work on Alfred's too. When Alfred was exposed, Arthur took him in his hand and gave a few generous strokes. Arthur looked at it with what could only be described as pure desire before enthusiastically sucking it into his mouth. As his mouth worked on Alfred's cock he pumped the bottom half with a strong fist, reaching whatever he couldn't fit in his mouth.

Alfred threw his head back and fought every instinct that told him to thrust up as Arthur started to suck his cock. Alfred moved his hand to the back of Arthur's head grabbing a fistful of the Brit’s hair as he cried out in wanton pleasure. It had been weeks since they last were with each other like this; both the adrenaline of the imminent threats that would soon surround Alfred on his mission and lack of intimacy made the contact only that much more electric. Alfred didn’t care about the mission now all he wanted was to spend his last few moments in pleasurable bliss with the man he loved.

Prickling pain stung his scalp, but Arthur learned from his time with Alfred that he enjoyed being bossed around in bed. The excitement spurred him on and encouraged him to suck him off longer. He paid close attention to the head, fucking the slit with his tongue before swallowing it and bobbing his head. When Alfred's cock pulsed in his hand, his mouth let go with an obscene pop. He squeezed it, trapping his release. Alfred's response from his denied orgasm inspired a wicked smile on the civilian's face. With a firm threat to Alfred that he better not touch himself, he deftly inched up the bed for the side table. He pulled out the lube--olive oil, they had to improvise-- and straddled Alfred again like before. He slicked a liberal amount on his fingers and thrust them inside himself. A longing, drawn-out moan escaped his slack mouth. Arthur could make himself feel good, but he was clearly putting on a show for Alfred.

“Tease,” Alfred accused, though he could not take his eyes away from the show in front of him. Alfred moved his hands and gently began dragging them up and down Arthur's legs. He reached up and pulled Arthur down so that Alfred would have more access to the beautiful body before him. Alfred nuzzled his head against Arthur's neck before gently biting the soft flesh. He traded off between nipping and sucking along Arthur's neck leaving dark possessive bruises for all to see.

Arthur gasped as Alfred sucked mercilessly on that one spot on his neck, the ex-soldier drawing hard sucks that ended with long drags of blunt teeth. Arthur's thighs quivered as pearls of precum beaded on the tip of his cock. "Stop." He pushed Alfred away, afraid he'd cum too soon with Alfred teasing his erogenous zones while he fingered himself. He reached behind himself and grabbed Alfred's cock, slicking it up with oil. Then he sat back on it, inch by slow inch. "Oh-- Alfred. Alfred. Alfred..." he chanted his name with adoration. The familiar stretching burn was nothing compared to the feeling wholeness he had when Alfred was inside of him.

Alfred groaned in appreciation of the heat that now surrounded his cock. He didn’t rush Arthur at this part he never did, he wanted to make sure the Brit enjoyed himself as much as Alfred and any discomfort or pain was kept to a minimum. Once Arthur was fully seated, he soothingly rubbed the Brit’s thighs waiting for Arthur to indicate that he was ready.

The haze of pain cleared. Having realized he was staring unseeingly at the ceiling, Arthur blinked back to full awareness. Alfred's usual tenderness touched him, and he gave the hands on his thighs a gentle squeeze. Besides the more exciting parts (for obvious reasons), Arthur remembered this was why they made love to each other. "I love you," he whispered, finally able to say it. The look he gave Alfred was of a man who cherished everything about his partner. "I love you, you idiot."

Alfred smiled moving his hand to gently caress Arthur's face, “But I’m your idiot.” Alfred slowly traced his hand back down Arthur's body and when his hand finally reached Arthur's thigh again Alfred gave a gentle thrust. He continued thrusting at a slow pace trying to prolong their last few hours together before the mission.

Arthur's breath hitched. The first thrust struck his prostate and he hadn't expected that. His mouth curved in a lazy smile as he adjusted his hips just so, and every thrust hit it dead on. He rode Alfred's rolling hips, grounding down on his cock as Alfred pushed up. Balancing his weight on Alfred's bent knees and lifting himself, Arthur had the right traction to move against Alfred with longer thrusts.

Alfred tightened his grip on Arthur's thighs and increased his pace egged on by the panting and moaning coming from Arthur. Alfred panted slightly from both pleasure and the strain of their positions. “Ah- Arthur…” Alfred moaned out.

Arthur kept the pace fluid even as Alfred increased his efforts. He bit his lip in concentration and to quell the mewling whimpers. His thighs were quivering; he was so close. "Oh--oh, god. Alfred. Touch me. Ahh..." His thrusts were erratic in need for that the extra push to send him over the edge.

Alfred grunted at the extra effort he had to extend when he let go of one of Arthur's thigh’s and began to pump the Brit’s cock in time with his thrusts. “Ah- Almost-” Alfred moaned in ecstasy as his body grew closer to his release.

Alfred fisted Arthur's cock, and with just a few strokes Arthur was coming. He threw his head back and shouted as his release rushed his senses. All that existed was immense pleasure, and for a moment of eternity Arthur was rendered blind and deaf. Arthur came back to himself just in time to witness Alfred succumb, too. The look on Alfred's face made him moan, and he helped him along by squeezing him tight and rocking his hips.

Alfred groaned at the way Arthur pumped his cock with his body dragging out the ecstasy causing black spots to dance across Alfred's vision for a moment. As the high wore off Alfred lay there lightly panting in exhaustion after a few moments he slid out of Arthur and rolled to his side taking Arthur with him. Alfred held Arthur close enjoying the warmth of their naked bodies pressed so closely together. He looked up at the window and saw the bright morning sun shining through the window. “I’m so going to be late. Mathew is going to have my head.”

"They'll just have to wait." They nestled together in their usual position; Arthur nudging his leg between Alfred's knees and draping his arm across his trim waist. Soft puffs of breath tickled Alfred's chest as Arthur rested his head underneath Alfred's chin. It was quite clear in his posture that he fully expected his post-coital cuddling. He would not settle for a half-assed hug before Alfred scurried off. "Mm. That was nice."

Alfred hummed in agreement as he snuggled closer to Arthur laying together for a few moments in silence. “I love you,” Alfred finally whispered into Arthur's hair. “No matter what happens on this mission know that I’ll always love you.” Alfred pressed a gentle kiss to Arthur's head and soothingly traced the outline of Arthur's spine with his hand.

Arthur's smile arched against Alfred's smooth skin. "Say it again." Funny how those three little words could make you feel so at home. It melted his muscles and soothed his spirit. He wanted to make this moment last, recall it in memory to the exact detail, and dream about it in his sleep.

“I love you.” Alfred repeated, “I’ll say it as many times as you’d like. I love you Arthur. I love the way you laugh. I love the way your eyes light up when you become passionate about something. I love your scruffy eyebrows. I love your shaggy blonde hair. I love your stubbornness. I love your tenderness. I love every bit of you.” Alfred peppered feather-light kisses on Arthur's head and face. “I love you so, so much, my darling.”

Arthur couldn't help but squeal. In a very manly way, of course. When he halfheartedly squirmed away Alfred just held him closer. Arthur relished in the silly pecks dotting his face and gave some back when he had the chance. If anyone asked him about this, he would deny it ever happening. Their bedroom, this sacred space, belonged to them and their courageous love for each other. Because it did take courage to love after having lost so much, and to keep your heart open and waiting despite the likely chance they will never reunite. Arthur loved Alfred. There was no one else for him. He knew, even if he never saw Alfred again or they grew apart naturally, a piece of his heart would always belong to his first and (he was sure) greatest love. 

"You are my happiness," he finally said as Alfred's earnest kisses winded down. He cupped his face, and their eyes met. "I love you. I love your courage, and your resilience. I loved those first, you know. I envied you as much as I admired you. Then I loved your tenderness when you held that boy as he died peacefully in his sleep. I remember looking at you, and wanting you so bad I ached. I love the people you were in love with before me, I love your family and friends, and I love everyone who touched your life. I love you, even your demons, because I believe in your strength to heal from them and become a better man because of them." He sniffed and closed his eyes, kissing him tenderly. "Everything."

The kiss was slow and lazy but full of raw emotion, the fear of separation, the longing desire to stay together, the overwhelming love that had developed so quickly between them. Eventually they broke apart and stared into each other’s eyes, Alfred kissed Arthur once more, “I’ll come back. I need my heart to live; I can only be apart from it for so long.” Alfred pecked Arthur's forehead before adding, “Come on help me get my bag together.”

Arthur sighed and rolled off the bed, padding to the bathroom. It was time to return to reality. Alfred was picking his clothes, so Arthur packed his toiletries. He remembered a book that read maintaining hygiene was important for morale. He didn't understand the psychology of it, but the civilian did find that shaving and brushing his teeth regularly played a significant part in his mood. He packed the basics for Alfred (he'd have to stock up at the market again) and handed them to Alfred in a bag. He smiled a bit sadly, recognizing Alfred wearing his militia gear.

Alfred looked at the toiletries a bit bemused, but thanked Arthur anyways and quickly kissed his cheek. “Hurry and get dressed if you want to come see me off.” Alfred quickly and efficiently packed away the last of the items he would be bringing with him minus the weapons he would receive at the armory before he left.

When Arthur and Alfred finally made it to the gate, Ludwig's looked like he was going to have a hernia. "So good of you to join us, first lieutenant," the mayor ground out through his teeth, a hearty vein pulsing at his temple. Gilbert howled with laughter and gave his brother a sturdy clap on his back. Ludwig lurched forward and coughed, but Gilbert didn't seem to notice.

"Don't pretend you weren't all over little Feli before your sweeps." Feli "yipped" when Gilbert slapped the Italian's rear, and Ludwig turned red at the attention he was suddenly getting from the laughing crowd. It just made him angrier, but getting wound up would only make things worse. How were they even blood related?

Alfred chuckled along with the crowd; he kissed Arthur's hand that he had been holding murmuring that he’d be right back before heading to the armory to get fitted with weapons and ammo before heading out. Inside the armory was his brother with a pack already made up for Alfred containing a pistol, a rifle, a tactical knife, and enough ammunition to last two weeks. “Thanks bro,” Alfred said upon seeing his gear ready to go.

"Don't worry about it." Matthew handed the gear over with his usual modest grin. "Take care, Al." He was staying behind with the remaining soldiers. He didn't envy Alfred per se, but he always looked up to his older brother (though he'd never admit it). He took a lot of pride in his responsibilities of overseeing the security measures of Haven. "Come back with good news on the antidote, eh?"

“You bet. I’ll be back before you even get the chance to miss me.” Alfred flashed his brother a bright grin and loaded himself with the weapons and ammo, before heading back through the door. He paused a minute before going back to join Arthur, “Take care of Arthur for me.” Alfred questioned more than stated to Ludwig.

Ludwig met Alfred's eyes and nodded sternly, taking it like a high-priority command. Arthur blushed to the roots.

Arthur took Alfred by the arm one final time and kissed him for all he was worth. Humorous jeers surrounded him, but he could put it from his mind for the moment. Their foreheads brushed and breath mingled. "I won't cry," the civilian vowed softly. Then, he squeezed Alfred's hands and let him go.

“I’ll be back in two weeks and have more people with me than what I’m heading out with. It will work. I have faith in the research you’ve been helping with.” Alfred quickly pecked Arthur's cheek , “I love you. I’ll see you soon.” And with that Alfred headed out the gates with ten of the best men and women Haven had to offer hot on his heels, prepared to sacrifice their lives for the better good if need be. Alfred looked over his shoulder one last time and smiled at Arthur. It was the type of smile one sees in those cheesy romance films about soldiers going to war; the ones that always end up breaking your heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Cue maniacal laughter. You guys have no idea how agonizing it was waiting to get this up knowing how evil the end is. But alas I shall say no more lest I spoil it. Until next time…


	13. Chapter 13

The troops returned in the dead of night. The alarm sounded, 5 siren wails indicating a returning troop. Arthur was up and running with the rest of the civilians, rushing to the front gate where soldiers held them back from crowding forward in their haste. Arthur waited with baited breath. As the gate opened, the shadows of fifteen people slowly trickled inside. Judging by their silhouettes, Arthur judged five to normal civilians. As the crowd pushed forward to meet the returned soldiers, Arthur stood rooted in place, searching in the darkness for that one person. Without realizing it, he drifted forward, drawn to the only soldier he knew had answers. Gilbert was embracing his two girls, daughter in one arm and wife on the other. He was one of the returned soldiers, having more territorial knowledge of the shadier regions the troops crossed into.

"Gilbert." The albino turned to Arthur, shocked out of his happy reunion. He gave his daughter to Elizaveta, and she stepped back, sensing the mood. 

"Where is he, Gilbert?" When Gilbert didn't answer, Arthur clutched his coat lapels and jerked him forward. "Where is Alfred?"

Gilbert’s shoulders slumped as he stared down at his feet silent for a few moments. When he finally looked up his eyes held a mix of pity and sympathy, he sighed sadly before answering Arthur's question, “Alfred didn’t make it back. We were four days away from Haven when a rouge group of infected surrounded and attacked our group. Alfred got bit, and we had just run out of antidote the day before.” Gilbert looked back down at the ground, “I’m so sorry Arthur. He’s out wondering the wastes infected somewhere but for all we know he could be dead already.”

Arthur couldn't speak. The words crowded in the back of his throat. His eyes began to sting, and the world blurred over with tears. This wasn't real... this wasn't happening...

"You...you left him. You left him!! He was your /leader/!" Arthur screamed and shook him roughly.

Gilbert pulled Arthur close and held the Brit as he screamed and fought against him. Others around them looked away all that had made it back to Haven safely felt guilty about the Brit’s loss. It was obvious to everyone in Haven how much the two needed each other; they both needed someone to help heal their wounds from so many desperate and lonely years. Gilbert held tight even as Arthur began to stop fighting against him. “I’m so sorry.” Gilbert repeated, “So so sorry.”

"Four days. Oh, god... he's still out there." Arthur could only imagine how scared Alfred must be. It took seven days for the body to shut down before it reanimated again. The antidote was only viable within the first 72 hours of infection. He took a shuddering breath, felt it rattle in his lungs. "It's not over. Al's still alive, and we're going to save him." He looked up and found Dr. Zwingli among the masses. "Come on." Whether Gilbert wanted to or not, the albino found himself being dragged to the elusive doctor. 

The doctor spotted them coming his way. He tipped his head in acknowledgement, apparently already privy to the news. 

"The antidote. Has it been improved upon?" The civilian haphazardly gestured behind himself without looking at the crowd. "The antidote worked. But Alfred is still out there, and he's been infected." Whether it was denial or hope that didn't let him give up, Arthur knew if he gave up he didn't he'd just fall apart.

Vash looked at the two and bowed his head, “Arthur you know as well as I that on patients who have been infected for six or more days it’s completely ineffective, and any more than 72 hours after infection and its effectiveness is questionable at best. So unless you can find him quickly then there isn’t a chance to save him. By the look on your face I can tell it’s already after the 72 hour mark. Arthur I’m sorry, but you had best just to consider him as an unfortunate loss.” He knew what it felt like to lose someone held so dear, but there was nothing that could be done. Alfred had been a great soldier and had ensured the safe return of his men and the few survivors they had tested the antidote on. It was a tragic, but necessary loss for the survival of mankind.

An unfortunate loss?! Alfred wasn't a statistic. He wasn't a faceless casualty on the field. Arthur could have boxed the doctor, but he forced himself to keep his cool. This was no time to waste on fighting; Alfred was more important. "It's not enough for me, doctor." Arthur pleaded with his eyes what he wouldn't dare put into words. Alfred might be dead, but he had to see it for himself. "Alfred wouldn't have given up on me. Please, give me a sample." Hell, he'd steal it if he had to, but he was giving him a chance to hand it over willingly.

“Arthur see reason here he’s gone. As much as I know you want to believe he could be saved, he’s gone. Our samples need to be used for those who have a chance at survival.” Zwingli shook his head and sighed, “Even if I did give you a sample to use on Alfred. There’s no guarantee that you will find him before the main infection begins. Once it has then he’s dead. I have no antidote or cure for that far into the progression of the infection.”

Arthur was beside himself with frustration. Zwingli was treating him like a child, as if what he did was the doctor's judgment call. "Would you have left Lili for dead?! If she was bitten and abandoned by everyone, would you have stayed here and waited while she was still alive?! If it was just a ghost of a chance that it would work, wouldn't you go after her and give her the antidote?" He angrily dashed away the tears. He was about to bolt and pack up his things-- he was going after Alfred either way, antidote or not. Alfred didn't deserve to die alone.

Zwingli’s shoulders slumped, “No I wouldn’t have.” After an agonizing moment of silence Vash looked up at Arthur, “Go take two antidotes with you. Red tops are the experimental day 6 dosage; blue is the 72 hour dosage. Use the red on Alfred I have no idea if it’ll actually work or even the possible side effects as it has yet to be fully tested, but if you want to try and save him so badly it’s your best bet.”

He didn't waste any more time. Just as he was about to rush to the lab, someone caught him by the arm. Arthur looked back and saw Ludwig regard Arthur with an inscrutable gaze. "You will need someone to accompany you," was all the German said. Arthur understood. 

 

"I'm coming, too." Matthew chipped in, seemingly appearing out of thin air. "I already sent the command to provide more supplies." His eyes softened. "We'll get him back, Arthur."

 

"Thank you." Arthur's heart filled with warmth seeing Alfred's allies come together. Real hope was growing, not the fearful denial. The civilian took off at a run for the lab and snatched the vials from the safe (Arthur was one of the few Zwingli trusted the code with). With the efficiency one would expect from the military, when he returned the necessities for the trip were already in order. Arthur stuffed in a few extra amenities from his place and lined up with Ludwig and Matthew. The two soldiers gave Arthur a nod as they set out.

The sun was still blazing overhead as they began their venture, but the looming threat of sunset brought a further sense of haste to the group. "Where do you believe he would go?" Ludwig questioned. They were following the path that the previous group had traveled on the way back to Haven. 

 

"When we traveled, we set up on the roofs at nightfall. Alfred most likely took shelter somewhere." Arthur searched through his binoculars for a structure of any kind Alfred may have gone into. They were marching at a steady jog to conserve energy.

They speedily checked each of the buildings they came across with no luck. By the time night drew near Ludwig and Mathew nearly had to chain Arthur to a roof for his safety as the Brit wanted to continue searching through the night regardless of the possible dangers.

The next day continued much the same as they searched for Alfred everywhere Arthur thought the American could be. Arthur tried to sleep knowing he’d need his strength for the next day praying to every deity he could think of that they would find Alfred by tomorrow lest everything they had done over the past days be for naught.

They had nearly given up hope as the end of the sixth day neared when they spotted a large structure out in the distance. "Ah--there!" Arthur slowed down to get a better view. In the distance, a large barn and farmhouse were an eyesore among the wild nature that took over after humans left. He passed the binoculars to Matthew as Ludwig shaded his eyes and squinted. 

"I see it." Matthew gave the binoculars back. "Let's go."

 

Invigorated with hope and purpose, the three took off at a run for the barn. As they reached it they took up arms.

 

"I will take the house; Arthur, go with Matthew and look in the barn." Ludwig cocked his magnum.

When they walked into the barn it was deathly quiet not even the sounds of the animals outside breached the thin walls. "Alfred?" Mathew called out quietly as he slowly searched the barn he kept his pistol held in front of him ready to defend himself if the need arose.

"Alfred?" The light from the open barn door did not reach the far corners of the large open space. The place was empty, with not much besides large tufts of dry hay everywhere. Matthew and he slowly split up to either side, gun at the ready. "Alfred?" cautiously asked, as if afraid to break the silence.

A low growl broke the silence and the sound of feet dragging came from the rafters above them. "Alfred?" Mathew questioned again cocking his gun aiming it at the rafters. The growls grew louder until suddenly a body dropped down from the rafters.

Arthur spun around, locking his crosshair on the body that landed effortlessly from two stories up. "A-Alfred!" He quickly moved out of striking zone, gun still held, warily, at his lover. "Can you understand me...?" The effects the virus took on Alfred was devastating; his eyes were already red, and he was as feral as a rabid dog. But he hadn't turned yet.

Alfred slowly dragged himself forward, his leg was dislocated at the knee preventing him from standing. He made no indication that he understood what Arthur had said to him nor even recognition of who the Brit was to him. Where Arthur stood watching Alfred crawl towards him Mathew took action. He moved forward sneaking up behind Alfred, Mathew placed his gun back into his holster before jumping on Alfred effectively pinning him to the ground. Angry howls ripped from Alfred as he thrashed against Mathew. "Hurry up Arthur!"

Arthur threw his backpack to the ground and ripped open the pocket; he took out the antidote and hypodermic needle. He uncapped the needle and pierced it through the vial's sterile seal. He drew out the ruby liquid to the end of the plunger, nearly emptying the vial. Matthew was yelling at him to hurry up, and in the corner of his eye he could see Alfred trying to buck Matthew off like a wild animal. 

Arthur fisted Alfred's hair and yanked it away; he plunged the needle straight into the artery at his neck and efficiently emptied the antidote. It was over in an instant. Arthur tossed the shot away and helped Matthew restrain Alfred.

Alfred snarled and tried to break free of the bodies that held him down. It took a few minutes for the drug to kick in, but when it did Alfred's body seized up. He thrashed and twitched against the two, blood began to combine with drool that foamed at his mouth. Whether the antidote was helping or killing him was unclear as the drug had never been used on a living being before, especially not on one with such a late stage of the infection.

Ludwig, who had heard the commotion coming from the barn, charged in. Without missing a beat he threw all of his weight into pinning Alfred to the ground. "Don't let him bite his tongue!" The German screamed. Arthur whipped off his belt and shoved the strap between Alfred's teeth. It took all three men to restrain Alfred. "It's going to be okay, Alfred," Arthur pleaded rather than assured.

A sick gurgling sound emanated from Alfred's lungs before his body collapsed into an eerie stillness. There was no movement coming from his body not even a gentle rise and fall of his chest. Alfred was, for lack of better words, as quiet as the dead. 

Arthur felt for a pulse. He couldn't tell if the life pulsing against his fingers was real and not wishful thinking. Ludwig and Matthew cautiously eased off of Alfred and gave him space. Arthur rolled Alfred on his back, and against his better judgment he turned his ear to the man's lax mouth. 

Alfred was breathing. Arthur felt the puffs of air curl around the shell of his ear. Arthur stayed like that, eyes closed, gently running his fingers through the other man's hair. 

Matthew stepped forward. "Do you think it worked?" He was holding back his own emotions; seeing his own flesh and blood almost succumb to a fate worse than death almost too much for him. It wasn't over yet; only time would tell the effects if the antidote and the fate of this man who may or may not prove that humanity had a fighting chance against the greatest disaster in human history.

Ludwig glanced outside before he looked down upon the unconscious American. “We need to get to some higher ground. I don’t want to take the risk of being caught blind sighted in the dead of night.” Ludwig cautiously took a few steps forward still wary of Alfred's precarious being. “Mathew help me get him up to the rafters.”

Arthur stepped back as Matthew helped Alfred onto Ludwig's back. The German effortlessly stood with his arms under Alfred's knees and hiked him higher up his back. They climbed the top floor of the rafters where Alfred dropped from and pulled up the ladder. Night was falling, but they were more than prepared for the darkness that was to come. The only thing they feared was what would happen to Alfred.

The weary group luckily did not encounter any difficulties during the night and, other than the possibility that Alfred remained infected, no infected appeared. Their biggest problem didn’t occur until the early hours of the morning during Mathew’s watch when Alfred woke everyone with pain filled screams broken only by the vomiting of blood.

“What the hell?! I thought this stuff was supposed to cure him not kill him?!” Mathew bit out as he helped hold Alfred on his side to prevent him from choking on his own blood.

"I-I think his body is rejecting the toxins." Arthur was alarmed but stayed focused and rational. All three were thinking that Alfred's condition was just too far in the stages and the antidote may not work, but none of them gave voice to their pessimism. All they could do was wait.

“So do we hold out here another night and see if his body will calm down or do we try and make it back to Haven?” Ludwig asked as he ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Maybe he just needs another dose of the antidote. Similar to anti-venom for a snake bite perhaps?”

Arthur shook his head. "It doesn't work like an anti-venom." He had never experienced such a violent reaction. He hoped the antidote was working with his body and not killing him instead; the virus could very well be rejecting the antidote or building an immunity by mutating. He was utterly helpless to watch. "Alfred, don't give in. Fight it." He rubbed his back encouragingly. "We're all waiting for you. You have so much to live for." He choked back a sob. "Don't leave me in this godforsaken world."

Alfred screamed out once more in pain before his body violently seized for almost a minute until it once again grew limp. Blood and drool dripped down his face and his breathing had a wheezing quality to it but he was still alive. That’s all the other three had to go on was Alfred's breath and pulse.

“We need to get him back to Zwingli.” Ludwig stated. “We have no idea if his condition is going to continue to plummet or improve. Either way Zwingli would know best what to do, after all it is his antidote.” The morning sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon meaning if they wanted to be able to get back before night hit they would have to leave now. “Pack your bags we’re going to head out in the next five minutes. I fear if we don’t Alfred won’t survive another night.”

Alfred was beyond their aid and Arthur's expertise; Zwingli was Alfred's last hope. They left for Haven immediately with Alfred on Ludwig's back. When the fort came into sight Matthew sprinted ahead to alert the doctor. Alfred was rushed to Zwingli's house where he was waiting with all his equipment prepared. 

"What is his condition?" Zwingli was greatly urgent when Ludwig set Alfred down on the table. 

"He's been purging blood and having seizures since I administered the antidote. He hasn't regained consciousness since then, either." Arthur stepped back and let the doctor check Alfred's vitals.

“Write this down.” Zwingli ordered Arthur before rattling off Alfred's vital signs, “His pulse is 58, bp is 96 over 52, respiration is 32 bpm, temperature is 101.3, his breath is very shallow, complexion is pale and slightly yellow, eyes are blood shot, appears to be anemic (we’ll have Smith test for that later), his body tremors slightly perhaps caused by liver failure…” Zwingli continued to rattle off information as if Alfred was another lab rat to be documented and tested used only to improve the antidote for future use.

Arthur robotically transcribed Alfred's vitals and read them over. His eyes pulsed wide in shock; Alfred was dying. He immediately spun around and went to his side, not quite believing it. As they carried Alfred to Haven, Arthur didn't let himself think of what could happen for fear of losing his mind. Now with the cold hard facts right in front of him, it didn't seem quite real. "Alfred, god dammit!! Not now, not when you're so close!" It was obvious now that the antidote had worked, but whether or not Alfred's body could sustain itself after the damage it endured was yet to be seen. Right now, it didn't look good. 

Arthur took his hand and squeezed. If Alfred was still in there, maybe he'd feel it.

A soft whimper came from Alfred and his head slowly turned to the side facing Arthur, but his eyes didn’t open. The movement seemed to overexert his physical capabilities at that moment and his tremors grew worse and he gasped more for breath that didn’t want to come. Even with the worse aftereffects Alfred had moved. Alfred had heard Arthur and tried to respond, it wasn’t much but it was a start.

"I think he heard you. Al..." Matthew stepped forward and squeezed his older brother's shoulder. Ludwig hung back, giving them their space as he watched on. Arthur's kept his hand in Alfred's, intuitively knowing that his touch was Alfred's bridge into reality. 

"Focus on me, Alfred. Feel my hand in yours. Hear my voice." He wiped the sweat beading at Alfred's brow. "Come back to me." If this were any other time, Arthur would have died a thousand times in embarrassment. But his pride was worth bringing Alfred back. Everything was.

“Arthur,” Zwingli calmly placed a hand over Arthur's. “I know you want him to get better quickly but if you push too much too fast it’s going to be detrimental to his healing. Look at him his tremors are worse now than a minute ago and his breath has become more ragged. Give him some time he needs to be able to rest.” 

Vash gently squeezed Arthur's hand before letting go and walking towards the door. He looked back at the worried faces of Mathew and Arthur and sighed, “I’ll be in my office if anything comes up. Ludwig I’m sure Feliciano is worried about you. You should go let him know you’re okay.” Ludwig solemnly nodded before following Vash out the door leaving the other two alone with Alfred.

Arthur swallowed hard and nodded, head down. "Yes, doctor." When the door clicked shut, Arthur and Matthew gently carried Alfred to the bed and arranged him as comfortable as possible. Arthur waited at his bedside for hours. At some point Matthew excused himself, needing to catch up on his duties but promised to return when he could. During the whole time Arthur held Alfred’s hand and talked to him, not expecting a response but to reassure Alfred he was there and needing to feel useful. When night came, Arthur couldn't hold his eyes open any longer, and he fell asleep slouched awkwardly on the chair with his head pillowed in his arms on the bed.

Mathew came back early in the morning with breakfast for the two of them and a vitamin and mineral riddled saline-solution bag Vash had made last night and given him to have Arthur attach to Alfred. He knocked softly using his foot as his hands were full before quietly opening the door not wanting to disturb Arthur as he had assumed the Brit would be asleep at 4 in the morning. Smiling sadly he placed the food bowls on the counter and walked over to Arthur. He gently tapped the Brit’s shoulder whispering, “Hey Arthur, Arthur wake up.”

Arthur's eyebrows ruffled together before blinking his weary eyes open. He hadn't slept since the three of them set off to find Alfred. "Alfred...?" He squinted his bleary eyes, but as they came into focus he realized it was Matthew. "Oh. Matthew..." The civilian looked at the real Alfred in the bed, still sleeping just as restlessly as before.

He smiled gently at Arthur ignoring the fact that Arthur had called him Alfred, “I brought some breakfast.” Mathew gestures with his head over to the bowls of gruel. “Also Zwingli wants you to hook this up to Alfred.” He added holding up the bag of nutrients.

Arthur connected the intravenous bag to a hypodermic needle and expertly injected it into Alfred's arm. He hung the IV bag by a wire hanger. He only took the gruel when Matthew handed it to him, his eyes never straying from Alfred as if he were afraid he would disappear like a dream. "Thanks, Matt," he sighed as he took the bowl and spoon. The two ate in silence, Arthur not even in the mood to comment on the terrible food that was customary for him to do. Arthur stared at the empty bowl long after he was finished with it, his gaze listless. "I don't think he'll make it, Matt. He slipped into a coma last night. Zwingli came, but there was nothing he or I could do." Rather than cry or scream like he should have, the civilian was quiet and numb.

Mathew stared down at his lap for awhile not responding just letting the idea of really losing his brother sink in. Alfred was the only family he had left in this fucked up world and now the idiot was going to die because of a stupid antidote. Alfred wouldn’t, no, he couldn’t leave him and Arthur alone like this they needed him. A lone tear escaped his eye, but Mathew was quick to wipe it away. “Who knows, this idiot wouldn’t know how to die if death himself wrote it out step by step for him. Besides don’t people slip into comas in order for their body to heal sometimes?”

Arthur didn't seem to be listening. His eyes drifted listlessly, like clouds over a breeze, settling on Alfred's sleeping face. "Did we do the right thing?" His voice was barely heard. "I thought that Alfred stayed alive because he was holding out on hope that help would come. But now I'm not so sure. Alfred was so tormented. Maybe he was tired of living." It was painful, so painful to think, but Arthur was becoming more and more certain that only he was benefitting from Alfred's survival. He wanted Alfred back in his life more than anything, but he didn't think to consider what Alfred wanted. It killed him inside to think that Alfred would loathe him when he woke up, and begrudgingly live on only for Arthur's sake. Before, Arthur imagined Alfred waking up with a smile; now he realized that nothing could be farther from the truth.

“Arthur!” Mathew reprimanded. “Don’t you dare think like that. Do you know you’re all he’d ever talk about? Every watch he’d go on and on about what you were doing about how smart and kind and (in his words) a total babe.” Mathew stood in front of Arthur and forced the Brit to look up at him. “He loves you and is fighting whatever is happening to him because he cares so much about you. Alfred may have been in terrible condition when you brought him here, but time has made him so much better. You have made him better. So don’t you give up on him, because when all else fails you’re the last beam of support he has.”

Arthur was stricken into speechlessness. He never heard any if those things (and if any other time Alfred /wasn't/ in danger of dying, he would have smacked Al). He looked away, hiding his glossy eyes rimming with tears. It was so easy to despair when the future was tinted with uncertainty. When they set off on the journey, Arthur was convinced they still had time and was willing to bet his livelihood on it. It was during this idle stretch of time where he waited that his doubts and ruminations haunted him. He licked his lips before speaking. "I... You're right, I think. But we were just beginning to be truly intimate with each other. I didn't tell him I loved him until hours before he left."

“Even if you never said the words Alfred always knew.” Mathew laughed lightly letting go of Arthur and looking back at Alfred. “He always would joke about being able to read minds. He’d always say ‘Arthur told me he loved me three times yesterday.’” Mathew sat down on the side of Alfred's bed being careful not to disturb the IV line. He hung his head and sighed, “He’s such a dork.” 

Arthur buried his face in his hands, his hands burning from the heat of the blush. "That idiot." Hidden between his hands the creep of a smile pulled at his lips. It brought him back to the precious, simple memories if Alfred's many idiosyncrasies that colored his personality and made him unlike anyone he had ever met. "I remember waking up before dawn with frost growing on the windows, and it was so cold my breath steamed in the air. Alfred was usually spooned behind me and probably the only thing keeping me from getting frostbite. Waking up with your lover holding you and cherishing you..." He drifted off, at some point his eyes had returned to Alfred.

“He’s going to be okay Arthur just give him time.” Mathew smiled at Arthur before turning back to watch Alfred breath. He was going to be okay, Alfred was just too tough to throw the towel in just yet.


	14. Chapter 14

Although Mathew knew his brother was strong the wait was torturous. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months and yet Alfred still had yet to awaken. It got to a point that Zwingli even believed Alfred would never wake from his coma, but Mathew and Arthur refused to give up on him. They spent nearly all their free time by the American’s bedside just waiting for him to open his eyes again.

Arthur was immensely grateful for Matthews support throughout Alfred's recovery, when Zwingli informed them of the real possibility that Alfred could have sustained brain damage and may never wake up, Arthur was inconsolable. But it was Matthew who helped him through it. Every day felt like a tally against them. They never spoke about how long was too long to keep him on sustenance, but as weeks turned unto months, the question of when hope turned into selfishness wasn't far from Arthur's mind. 

Alfred was returned to his and Arthur's house after his vitals stabilized. Arthur slept next to him like always and talked to him. He couldn't wait for Alfred to wake up, but he was willing to wait forever if he had to.

Then one day nearly four months after they had gone and “saved Alfred” everything changed. Mathew was sitting watching over Alfred while reading a book as he always did in the afternoons while Arthur would take a quick shower and maybe a cup of tea. He barely even looked up as he saw Alfred twitch out of the corner of his eye. It was a common occurrence for Alfred's body to still convulse from time to time, Vash had told them it was probably a side effect of the antidote they used on him. He briefly glanced up to make sure Alfred wasn’t going to be able to hurt himself on anything and quickly looked down resuming reading his book. It took his mind a few extra minutes to process what he had actually seen. 

Alfred's eyes were open. Mathew quickly tossed aside his book and went to Alfred's bedside. “Alfred? Hey are you okay? Alfred, look at me can you understand me?” Alfred's eyes darted around the room, he was confused and wouldn’t look his brother in the eye, but he was awake. “Arthur!” Mathew called out knowing the Brit would come rushing in at the sound of his name.

"What happened?!" Arthur rushed into the room, and his eyes immediately went to Alfred. Without missing a beat the civilian went to his side. "Alfred?" He tried to hold back his anxiety so as not to alarm him. "Can you hear us?"

Alfred's eyes stopped wondering and turned to look directly at Arthur recognition lighting his face he stared at Arthur for a few moments before breaking into a coughing fit. “Water,” he rasped out. Arthur bobbed his head heavily and disappeared into the kitchen. He came back with a tall water glass, and as Matthew sat Alfred up, he pressed it to his lips.

Alfred downed the glass so quickly he nearly choked. Once he finally settled down he could bring himself to roughly speak. His hands still lightly shook and probably would for a long time if not for the remainder of his life, a side effect of the antidote. Annoying, but he could still learn to live with it. After a few moments of silence Alfred asked, “How long was I out?” gesturing to the IV in his hand.

Arthur and Matthew chimed in at the same time. "Four months," they said with a short look at each other and then back to Alfred. "Nearly, four, anyway," Matthew supplied. 

Arthur sat beside Alfred and checked felt his forehead. "How are you feeling?" Arthur asked as he checked Alfred's eyes for dilation. He noticed Alfred's shaking but didn't comment.

“Horrible, tired, hungry,” Alfred's stomach growled loudly in agreement, “Like a cell phone someone left on vibrate that’s been ringing non-stop.” Alfred smiled and put his hand to his face, “answering” the said phone, “What Mom? I told you stop calling I’m a grown man now.”

"Awful sense of humor still intact." Arthur couldn't hide the exasperated smile betraying his amusement. He gently took Alfred's hand away from his face and held it in his lap. Matthew discreetly slipped out in search of palpable food for Alfred's weak stomach and to alert Zwingli.

Arthur wordlessly looked down at Alfred's trembling hand. The tremors were likely from brain or nerve damage. Alfred's cognitive functions seemed to be normal, so Arthur was betting on the latter. "Four months..." Arthur mused softly, running his thumb over the back of Alfred's hand.

Alfred smiled sadly, “Must have been pretty lonely without me. I mean after all I’m the life of the party.” Alfred stared down at his quivering hand it had been no more than a few minutes upon waking and he was already exceedingly self-conscious about it. After a few more seconds he pulled his hand out of Arthur's and shoved both his hands under the sheets that pooled around his waist. “So how’s everyone else doing?” He asked quickly trying to draw attention away from himself.

Arthur didn't comment, but carried on like Alfred wanted. "Since you left, more soldiers have returned with survivors. Their rate of infection varied, but no one came close to surviving at the stage you were in." Just as he was about to change the subject, Dr. Vash Zwingli burst in.

"Jones!" He hollered abruptly and marched into the room. He gave Alfred a short one-over before cutting his eyes to Arthur. "Did you check his vitals?" Arthur didn't even bother to answer; he hurriedly did just that. 

"Alfred," Dr. Zwingli went on, "explain to me your experience during each stage of infection. When did you lose agency over your body? Do you recall attacking--"

Arthur stopped him from continuing. "He's not a god damn test subject. Don't bother him with pointless questions!" The doctor blinked owlishly, taken aback. Arthur had never yelled at him before.

Alfred looked taken aback by Arthur's outburst as well, but quickly recovered placing a hand on Arthur's arm to calm him down a bit. “Arthur, its fine.” Once he was sure Arthur would remain quiet he turned back to Vash and began to answer the man’s questions. 

“For the first day I felt fine no different than I felt the day before. The second day I began to feel an itch emanating from the wound by the end of the day it grew painful. By the third I had reached a barn and began losing awareness periodically, I couldn’t keep down any of the food I had with me but I was starving. It was at that point I tried tying myself to a pole to prevent me from attacking unsuspecting passersbys. By the fourth day I roughly remember what was happening but had no conscious control of my body. On the fifth day I stopped all conscious and likely sub-conscious thought.” Alfred's face furrowed in confusion, “I don’t know how long it was after that but once my conscious roughly came back all I felt was burning agonizing pain. Once the pain disappeared I felt like I was in a deep sleep and now I feel groggy like I just woke up.” Alfred smiled apologetically, “Sorry that’s all I really remember.”

Arthur hoped to have buried the event when Alfred attacked them. He didn't seemed bothered by it, and he was glad. He didn't blame Alfred in the least, and he didn't want to add it to Alfred's conscience. It was unfortunate though that Alfred remembered the time after he injected the antidote.

"I have a lot of questions to ask. I'd prefer it if you, Arthur, weren't present for all of it." Arthur was about to object, but Alfred stopped him. He looked torn, but relented, giving Alfred a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.

The questions lasted far into the night. Zwingli drilled Alfred relentlessly, squeezing out every detail that left him emotionally exhausted. Arthur busied himself in the lab when Zwingli returned and informed him the assessment was over. 

"Keep an eye on him. His autonomic system has taken a blow, but it's a miracle his organs are even functioning." The doctor shook his head. "This is good news for us."

Arthur nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. If Alfred survived, then he only had to make the antidote viable for everyone. Arthur took his leave and went straight home. 

Arthur came into the room and handed Alfred a few packs of trail mix and a protein bar. "My god, that took the whole day. Did Zwingli even feed you?"

“Depends on your definition of feed.” Alfred gestured towards the IV fluids still dripping into him, “He refilled that about half way through, but as for real food he said I wouldn’t be able to stomach it just yet. Ha! What does he know? I have guts of steel.” Alfred grinned broadly but it didn’t reach his eyes. He took a bit of the protein bar and slowly chewed it, and then he repeated the process. He managed to eat 4 small bits before he felt like he was going to be sick. He gagged but otherwise kept the small amount of food down. “Not so hungry anymore…” He looked at the protein bar with disgust before putting it down on the small table beside the bed.

"It's too optimistic to bring you back to a solid diet so soon," Arthur sighed and took the food away. He sat on the bed and sneaked a furtive glance over his shoulder. He looked down at his hands resting limply in his lap. "Are you tired?" He wanted so badly to hold him right now.

“I have been since I woke up. Still-” he yawned loudly, “not quite sure how I’m still awake. Care to help a poor guy fix his pillows so he can rest his eyes for a bit?” Alfred asked as he pathetically attempted to rearrange the pillows that were trapped beneath his body without falling over.

Arthur hummed in affirmation and fixed up his pillows, fluffing them and rearranging them to Alfred's convenience. After Alfred settled in, Arthur slid in next to him. He laid his head on Alfred's chest next to his shoulder. He slept like this every night, even before Alfred left. The shaking was something he had to get used to; he doubted that would be a problem at all.

Alfred lay as still as he could despite the constant shake of his body he tried to let the exhaustion that clouded his mind take over but self conscious thoughts about his body wracked his mind. “I’m sorry.” Alfred finally murmured as Arthur readjusted slightly against his chest. “I must be pretty uncomfortable. I can’t even lie still.”

"I don't mind." A serene smile was in his voice. "Alfred, I love you. I waited at your bedside for four months preparing myself for the worst. You could have suffered brain trauma. I was scared, but that just meant finding new ways to love you. This," he patted Alfred's trembling chest, "is a cakewalk." He followed it up with a kiss. "I'm not trying to minimize your concerns in regards to the state of your health, but I assure you that you are perfect to me as you were before. You would feel the same way about me, I hope. "

“Of course. Nothing could stop me from loving you. It’s just-” Alfred looked torn trying to decide if he should tell Arthur everything Zwingli told him, “Arthur this is just the tip of the iceberg. Zwingli told me I need to tell him anything else I’ve noticed…” Alfred stayed silent for a few moments staring at the ceiling. “Arthur the infection it- it harmed more than just my nerves…” Alfred could feel his stomach knot up as he tried to force himself to talk to Arthur. “Zwingli told me I’m liable to suffer from these tremors, seizures, excessively low blood pressure, and… near total vision loss.” The last words were a whisper; Alfred half hoped Arthur wouldn’t hear them but of course he couldn’t have been that lucky.

Arthur continued petting Alfred for a long time in contemplative silence. He mulled through his head for the right words. He wanted Alfred to know he would still love him no matter what and it didn't make him less of a person. But that wouldn't satisfy Alfred because no pretty words could take away the inevitable. "I'm so sorry, Alfred." He couldn't possibly imagine what Alfred was going through, will continue going through, feeling like a time bomb wondering when his seizures will come over him. 

Arthur sat on his heels and looked down at Alfred in the dark. "You're a hero, Alfred. Especially mine."

Alfred felt his breath hitch at the words; he could feel the tears spill over his already damaged eyes. He could see only in fuzzy images he squinted slightly trying to see Arthur leaning over him better. Zwingli’s earlier words came back to him: “Alfred your sight isn’t going to get better. In fact it may continue getting worse. Alfred you may be blind one day and you will never be a soldier again. You’re lucky to even be alive.” 

Alfred wiped his eyes the best he could with his quivering hands, before looking up again at the blob before him. “You don’t think I’m useless?”

"Why would I think that?!" Arthur was scandalized how Alfred would think he was so shallow. To be fair, he was getting a taste of his own medicine when he asked the same thing. Arthur took a moment to breathe, bracing himself against the tears he, too, wanted to cry. "Alfred, please have faith in me. I would never think you're worthless, or even pity you, because you're a fighter and I have nothing but respect for those who never give up. Don't give up, Alfred." He gripped Alfred's hand, willing him to listen. "You promised to come back-- but you didn't, so I went after you and dragged you away from death's door. You owe it to me to try."

Alfred nervously reached his other hand up towards where he thought would be Arthur's face when he felt Arthur press his cheek to Alfred's shaky palm. “Of course I will. You deserve no less.” Alfred yawned against his own will exhaustion finally winning over his fears. “Sorry I don’t think I can stay up any longer. I’m… really…” Alfred had already drifted off before he could finish his sentence.

Arthur hummed in acquiescence, tucking himself in alongside Alfred pick it was the most natural thing in the world. He made Alfred's shoulder his pillow and rested his head there. He'll keep Alfred's recovery among the small amount of people who cared. If word got out, people would be tramping through like a zoo exhibit. Clearing the tear tracks from Alfred's face, Arthur made himself comfortable and fell asleep by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Liked I mentioned last chapter these last chapters are going to be a tad shorter. Only two more until this story is over. Side note I nearly forgot to update all together I’m only like 18 minutes into Thursday but hey better late than never right?


	15. Chapter 15

5 years later

KNOCK! KNOCK! Alfred groaned in the bed where he lay, Arthur was snuggled up close to his side. Alfred turned over hoping it would make whoever was attacking their door go away. KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! Alfred grumbled a bit more before shaking Arthur awake. “Door,” was all he muttered when that Brit came to before rolling over and trying to fall back asleep.

"You know damn well where the door is," the Brit grumbled as he nevertheless left the bed and started dressing. He had half a mind going to the door buck-naked-- would serve them right for interrupting his sleep on his day off. Realizing he was putting on Alfred's trousers, he kicked those off and looked around in a fluster for his, all while the door was still banging. "SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP!"

"Arthur! It's Matthew!!" More banging.

"Is your brother always this daft?!" Arthur stomped to the door as he wrestled his arms into his undershirt. He yanked the door open, murder in his eyes. "This better be fucking good, Matt!"

“It’s a success! Seven days infected and it worked perfectly there isn’t any signs of the side effects!” Mathew had a smile plastered to his face a mile wide and was bouncing about like an overly excited puppy. “We’ve finally done it! The antidote is perfect!”

Arthur's knuckles turned white as he clutched the door frame, and he went dizzy for a second before righting himself. Arthur dedicated five years of his life waiting for this day, and now that it's finally happened it didn't feel real. "You know what this means, right?" Matthew bobbed his head with a brilliant gleam in his eyes. They could rebuild. Within the past 5 years, Haven colonized in different areas, spreading out and re-domesticating the land with renewed and new technology. Raiders were either pushed out or returned to decent society abiding by Haven's laws enforced by its military force. Haven remained the hub of civilization and the safest place on Earth, as far as they knew. 

"Ugh. Is the survival of the human race worth waking up that fool?" Arthur looked back into the house, but the bedroom could not be seen from the front room.

“What are you two still asleep for anyways? It’s almost noon.” Mathew asked before he really looked and noticed the pronounce bruises on the side of Arthur's neck. He shook his head trying to prevent himself from imagining where Arthur got those. “Never mind I really don’t want to know.”

Arthur slapped his hand over the hickeys. Color bloomed across his face. "Alfred!! Get over here!" Suddenly, Alfred's rest wasn't so important.

Alfred ran out of the room crashing into nearly everything on his way to the front room. “What’s wrong? Who do I have to shoot?” He was still quite disoriented facing away from the two instead of towards them. Alfred due to Arthur's yelling had forgotten to put on any clothes and so his ass in all its glory was bare in front of them.

This was definitely worse than the hickeys. Matthew might have the same parts, but it was still disturbing to see the naked body of his brother. "I'm sorry, Matt." Arthur sighed helplessly at Alfred who was still facing the wrong way. Before he actually /did/ turn around and expose himself full-frontal, Arthur took him by the arm and guided him out of the line of site and onto the couch.

Alfred was still slightly confused but the familiar pressure of Arthur on his elbow calmed him enough to willingly follow the Brit. Once he was seated on the couch with a blanket covering his waist down Mathew followed and sat on a chair across from Alfred and Arthur. “What’s up guys? Why was Arthur freaking out?” Alfred questioned staring blindly at nothing in particular.

Arthur sat with Alfred and held his hand; not just for Alfred's sake, but because Arthur liked to feel his boyfriend's presence. "The antidote successfully reversed the effects at the seventh day." Arthur squeezed his hand for the next part. "With no permanent damage." Arthur was ecstatic, but it broke his heart that Alfred still suffered comorbid injury from a virus that after only 5 years was perfected. During those years Arthur helplessly witnessed Alfred's sight rapidly deteriorate. It was hard for Alfred, it still was, and it frustrated Arthur that all he could do was make Alfred's transition into complete blindness as easy as possible. He didn't want to make it /easy/-- he wanted to fix it.

Arthur offered a wan smile, not feeling the full brunt of his excitement earlier. Arthur dedicated his life to Zwingli's research, but it always remained that Alfred was his true loyalty. Everything he did was for Alfred and to be with Alfred. He was happy on behalf of the bright future, but nothing could make up for what happened in the past.

“That’s awesome! Good job babe!” Alfred excitedly responded, haphazardly placing a kiss on Arthur's ear. “Only took forever, but it’s finally done! What about the vaccine, any news on the progress of that?”

"That was my province," Arthur sighed, ears turning pink from the kiss nonetheless. "And no, nothing as successful as that. It's bloody difficult to test, anyway. Hippocrates oath and all; you can't inject someone with a vaccine and then infect them to test its effectiveness." 

"It's only a matter of time," Matthew assured whole-heartedly.

Alfred laughed lightly, “Well Ludwig may let you do that to the group of prisoners we have. They’ve been driving him bat-shit insane. Use, like, three at a time and if it works then they are free men! If not…” Alfred shrugged, “Well they had a shot at-” Alfred's words began to slur until he stopped mid-sentence as he falling off the couch and onto the floor where he began convulsing. It had been nearly three weeks since his last seizure and while they were fewer and father in between than they had been at the beginning it was still a common occurrence.

Arthur hurriedly opened space around Alfred, pushing the coffee table and stray items out of the way. "It will pass, darling. It will pass." No matter how many times he witnessed the seizure events he could never completely get used to them. He learned to remain calm and to resist the urge to hold him down no matter how violent they were; rather he placed a hand under Alfred's head to prevent him from injuring himself farther. He held a hand up when Matthew rose, stalling him from coming close. Alfred needed his space while the seizure ran its course.

Mathew had seen Alfred seize in the past but it was always nerve wracking to watch. Arthur was crouched protectively around Alfred's head as Alfred convulsed and although Mathew wanted to help he knew Arthur had the situation under control. Alfred's breath came in ragged gasps and his lips were slightly blue from not breathing periodically. The seizure lasted two full minutes before Alfred's convulsions eased back down to his normal body tremors. 

When Alfred's tremors normalized Arthur flipped the blanket over his lap again. He brushed Alfred’s damp bangs out of his face and stroked his chest soothingly. "Alfred, do you know where you are?" Matthew handed Arthur a glass of water and he set it down. Matthew sat crossed-legged next to them. It had been years since he'd see his brother collapse.

Alfred's blind eyes looked around as his brain tried to catch up to the present moment. After a few minutes Alfred was coherent enough to understand where he was and who was around him. “I’m tired.” He mumbled as he rested his head on Arthur's legs. “I’m tired and my head hurts. Take me to bed.” Alfred whined he was always needy after his seizures, as annoying as it could get it meant that Alfred was fine for the time being.

Arthur and Matthew exchanged a private smile. "Then I'll leave you two to get back to... whatever you two were doing. Yeah." Matthew cleared his throat and stood. "I'll just see my way out." Arthur waved awkwardly at Matthew's retreating back.

"Let's get back to bed, then." Arthur helped Alfred rise. The blanket crumpled to the ground. "You realize you're in your birthday suit," Arthur commented offhandedly as he led Alfred's shaking legs to the bedroom. They fell back into bed and under the covers; Alfred cuddling up against Arthur and extra needy as he usually is after these episodes. Arthur was only happy to oblige.

“I don’t see anything wrong with my appearance.” Alfred joked even as his head throbbed; he had a tendency of developing migraines after his seizures. As Alfred lay cuddled up against Arthur he let his tired mind wander a bit. He felt bad that he was bitter towards the most recent success of the cure, but he couldn’t help thinking of how unfair life was. That lucky person was going to get to live an average life, get married, have kids, and do normal human things without a billion complications holding him back. Alfred eventually worked up the nerve to speak up, “I hate him.” He started, “It’s not fair at all. Why am I the fuck up while he gets off easy?” Alfred could feel tears building up in his eyes but made no move to wipe them away. “It’s not fair.”

"It's not." Arthur patiently thumbed away the tears as they came. Truthfully, he hated the man a little, too. He couldn't have been half the man Alfred was-- he could have even been a raider. There wasn't anything to say because no words could bring back Alfred's sight and health. The past five years had been difficult on Arthur, too. Alfred was depressed for a very long time, and their relationship suffered as a result. Eventually, Alfred went back to his joking self, and even used humor to mask the pain. Arthur saw through it, but didn't comment. It was Alfred's way of coping.

“I’m so tired Arthur. Every day is so exhausting. My body never fully rests, it’s always quivering. Some days I don’t even want to get out of bed.” Alfred sighed wearily, relaxing as much as his body would allow. “I try to put on a brave face but it’s terrible. Living in total darkness, being completely dependent on the help of others, never knowing when my next seizure will hit. It’s terrible, and I hate what’s become of me. You’re the only thing that I can even motivate myself to get up every morning for. If I wasn’t for you I’d probably given up on even trying anymore. It’s not worth it. I’m not worth it.”

Arthur didn't know if Alfred meant that Arthur gave him hope or that Arthur was his last burden in the world. He wasn't too optimistic, given the last words. Instead of asking, Arthur petted his hair. At length he replied. "I know it's miserable for you." There was just nothing more to say. What /could/ you say to your lover who confessed that living was a trial? Feliciano told him not to take it personally, but Arthur was so invested in Alfred's life that he couldn't help but think there was something he could do, or wasn't doing.

Alfred was quiet for awhile, so quite that it seemed he had fallen asleep until he finally worked up the gall to ask a question. “Arthur.” He paused taking a deep steadying breath, “Be honest with me. Would you really have saved me if you’d have known I’d end up like this?”

"Miserable and hanging on by a thread?" Arthur scoffed, but it was too sad to be properly derisive. "Yes, I would have. I'd give you the opportunity to decide for yourself if you wanted to live or die. It's not my decision to make." Even if I'm being selfish for letting you live like this... It wasn't as hard on Arthur as it was on Alfred. Arthur took Alfred's blindness as another way to love Alfred. He wasn't a burden, at least not to Arthur.

Alfred let out a slow sad sigh, “And yet you want me to be the one to make that decision?” Alfred shook his head before pulling away and sitting up. He slowly scooted his way to the edge of the bed before hunching over and burying his face in his hands. He didn’t even notice the quivering much anymore, it had become such a constant in his life that it only ever interfered when he tried to grab or hold something. 

“I don’t even know anymore.” Alfred finally admitted. “I love you Arthur. Truly, I do, but you could do so much better than me. Sure it may have hurt for a bit, but you would have moved on eventually. Everyone does it’s a fact of life, you can’t mourn forever.” Alfred turned to face Arthur or at least the general direction he assumed Arthur to be in and smiled a small, sad smile. “I’m still on edge. I’m waiting for you to get sick of me one day and finally leave me for something better. It’ll happen one day. One too many outbursts, one too many days melancholic, one too many days depressed.” Alfred looked towards the wall again trying to choke back the sob that built in the back of his throat. “One day it’ll all become too much and you’ll leave. Everyone always leaves.”

Arthur slammed the bed with his fist. "Don't you dare underestimate my love for you! I won't deny that you can be a pain in the ass sometimes, because you /are/, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I accept you, all of you! That's what love is, Alfred. It's about seeing the ugliness in your partner and loving them anyway! If you died, Alfred... my god..." His throat constricted with grief at thought of it. "I could never stop loving you, even until the day I die. Maybe I'd find other people. But you'll be the one I think about when I wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night. Always." He couldn't be sure he'd live on after Alfred. He may just follow Alfred out of grief. He took Alfred by the hand and kissed it. "I'm here for you, Alfred. I won't go unless you tell me to."

Alfred cautiously lifted his hand not held by Arthur and nervously moved it towards Arthur's face. His spatial judgment was entirely off and he ended up running his hand into Arthur's nose. He hastily pulled his hand back and looked away ashamed of himself but before he could manage to fully pull his hand away Arthur grabbed it and pressed his cheek against Alfred's palm. The sobs he bit back finally broke free as he broke down in tears. “I’m sorry. Don’t go. Please don’t leave me. I need you.” Alfred repeated like a mantra between choked sobs.

Arthur closed the distance between them and held onto Alfred for all he was worth. Hot tears fell on him and only made his hold tighten. "My god, Alfred. I would never leave you." He let himself cry with Alfred, harsh sob rocking his shoulders as he poured all of his pain out. He loved Alfred so much. He wanted Alfred to trust his love. 

Alfred clung to Arthur the only piece of solid ground he had left. No matter what he said or did Arthur stood by him and that was what he needed. No pretty words, no beautifully masked lies, just solid proof. Time and time again Arthur had proven himself to Alfred yet somehow the American could never quite bring himself to believe it. It was almost too good to be true that someone so good, so brilliant would want to stay with someone as screwed up as Alfred. 

So Alfred sobbed from both happiness that Arthur was still there for him even after five strenuous years and sadness that he could never be there to support and protect Arthur again, sadness that he would never see that beautifully brilliant smile ever again, sadness that he would live the rest of his life as a handicap. “I love you.” Alfred sniffled as he slowly calmed down the exhaustion of his seizure and the sobbing taking a toll on the already tired man.

Arthur held Alfred until the sobbing tired him out. He pulled away from Alfred's neck and sniffled. "As do I, love." Arthur pulled him back to the head of the bed and tucked them both in properly. They arranged their limbs and settled with Arthur's head was tucked underneath Alfred's chin and an arm slung comfortably over the curve of his waist. So many nights they slept like this. Arthur stroked the small of Alfred's back, chasing up and down his spine.

Alfred hummed gently at the sensation of Arthur's hand running soothingly along his skin. He tried to stay awake longer just to enjoy the soothing motion, but his body refused to obey him choosing much needed sleep as the more appealing option. Slowly Alfred's body drifted to sleep, his muscles still quivered and his head still hurt but emotionally at least he felt better. His last thoughts before he succumbed to the pull of sleep were of Arthur and the need to put more faith in the Brit’s promises.

Arthur petted Alfred long after the American fell asleep. Touch was very important to Alfred, as were the rest of his senses after blindness overtook him. It hadn’t been easy getting here and Arthur was sure there would many more days that would be just as hard, but they had each other and would overcome any challenges that came their way. They had in the past and they could in the future, they had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I tried my best to fully research seizures but as I don’t know anyone with them or have ever had one I don’t know the exacts. Welp one last chapter and this fic will be over. There will be a new one I’ll start posting once this one is finished I’ll post the first chapter of that the same day as the last chapter of this. IDK the name yet so I’ll let you guys know then I suppose. Until next time then.


	16. Chapter 16

15 years later

“Arthur hurry up. You’re always getting on my ass about being late and here you are still searching for my glasses that you decided needed to be cleaned.” Alfred sat on the couch impatiently waiting for Arthur to find his sunglasses that the Brit conveniently lost right as they were about to leave. “We are going to be late and Ludwig will have both our heads.” Alfred fussed again.

"Piss off." Arthur picked up Alfred's sunglasses behind the couch (how did it get there?!) and rubbed the lenses with his shirt. "They're your bloody sunglasses, so put them where I can find them!" He jammed them on Alfred's head non-too-gently and threw open the door. If anyone was obsessed with being on time it was Arthur. 

Alfred needed no assistance out the door: he knew the layout of the house down to every nook and cranny. Since relocating into a better house a few years back, Arthur barely changed a thing with the furniture arrangement or any interior apparatus. 

When they got out into the street, Arthur linked his arm with Alfred's and guided him to the station. Cars were a faraway dream still, but commercial driving made it possible for people to commute to farther locations. Within the past 20 years Haven expanded her boarders and was as large as a town now. Shanty houses were leveled and adobe houses took their place. 

Arthur laid his head on Alfred's shoulder. They just celebrated their China anniversary; 15 years since the day they got married. They held a small ceremony not long after the day they vowed in words to always be together. In that time nothing had changed with Alfred's blindness; the nerve damage was beyond healing, and medical technology hadn't yet caught up to speed with the Pre-Virus years. 

"If you feel uncomfortable we can leave at any time, hm? This is about you after all."

“I’ll be fine. I’m 46 for god’s sake I can handle a little ceremony even if I still don’t understand why they’re giving me an award. All I did was get pricked with a needle and become a walking wreck. That hardly deserves an award ceremony and a metal.” Alfred sighed, exasperated by the triviality of the quickly rebuilding world they always wanted something to celebrate. “It’s a waste of time if you ask me. People nowadays, they’re always celebrating. Look Jimmy got a bike let’s throw a festival.” Alfred scoffed and muttered, “Crazy kids,” under his breath.

"It keeps morale up and gives credit where credit is due." He rubbed Alfred's chest. "You have no room to bleat about kids, given you're just as childish. Sometimes." He pressed his lips to Alfred's, effectively preempting an argument. They kissed for a long moment before Arthur broke away, sighed contentedly, and rested his head back on his shoulder.

“Like your one to talk.” Alfred muttered as they continued towards the train station which would take them to the award ceremony. It was a quick walk and they were quickly ushered onto a train once they arrived as they were already holding the train schedule behind by quite a bit. Alfred was never too terribly fond of the trains as they shook and rattled too much to provide any sense of comfort. Being blind Alfred had learned to adapt to his surroundings and was much better with his judgment of spacial distances, but it always did prove for a very boring train ride which generally put Alfred to sleep if he was forced to stay on too long. Luckily it wasn’t a long trip via train and they arrived at the next station within 30 minutes. 

Alfred let Arthur lead him as he often did whenever they left the house. Venturing about still made Alfred quite nervous as he generally had no idea where he was or even what direction he was facing, but Arthur always made sure to stay by his side and point him in the right direction. “How much further to this frickin’ place? It feels like it’s in the middle of fucking now where.” Alfred grumbled as he always did when in unfamiliar territory it was how he coped with his nervousness.

Arthur just rolled his eyes. When they checked in, everything was in order to commence the ceremony. Arthur was surprised to see the one opening the ceremony with a speech was Ludwig. The German retired from politics years ago. 

Ludwig cleared his throat in that authoritative way of his. "Thank you everyone for joining us in commemorating a hero who dedicated his life to restoring humanity to its former splendor. It is too often forgotten that it is the distinguished military career of each soldier that made hope more than just a dream during those dark times. This soldier in particular, a man I had the privilege of knowing since the founding of Haven twenty five years ago, is among one of the finest. In June 2170, First Lieutenant Alfred F. Jones captained the first expedition to test the success of the first antidote. During a surprise skirmish he was infected with the virus."

Ludwig went silent for a moment. "I and two others searched for him. When we found him, it was nearly too late. After we injected him with the antidote, we later learned that the particular serum used was highly unstable. Lieutenant Jones was cured of the virus, but he never completely recovered. The antidote rendered Lieutenant Jones blind." Arthur, who was sitting with Alfred off stage, squeezed his hand. Ludwig went on. "Lieutenant Jones was the first man who successfully recovered after such an advanced stage of infection. He continues to be an inspiration to us and a role model in the community. Please give First Lieutenant Alfred F. Jones a hand.”

On cue Alfred stood up with Arthur and allowed the Brit to lead him onto the stage greeted by a round of applause. He always tried to stand straighter and shake less when he was in front of crowds not wanting to be pitied in the slightest due to his condition. When Arthur stopped Alfred saluted, he had forced Arthur to tell him about what would happen before getting on stage, mainly because Alfred really didn’t want to make a fool of himself while getting his medal. After a few seconds Alfred put his hand out for Ludwig to shake, and grins when the firm grip of the other’s hand grasps his. “Sergeant,” Alfred greeted with a nod receiving a similar greeting in reply.

As Ludwig moved aside and allowed Arthur to lead Alfred to the podium the clapping died down and the Brit took a few steps back and allowed Alfred the spotlight. “Hey,” Alfred greeted with a smile, “so here I am I suppose to receive this medal for ‘being an inspiration’ and that’s all fine and dandy, but in all honesty I didn’t do that much. I woke up, I was the first to survive, I helped test out the early stages of the cure, but it really wasn’t that much. I think the people who deserve the recognition more are people who labored tirelessly in search of the cure, not the guinea pig, but hey why turn down the offer of a party in your honor.” Alfred laughed along with the crowd, it felt strange, he felt as though he was just talking to himself and not a crowded room of people. 

“I-it wasn’t the scariest thing going out and facing the infected while injecting as many as we could. It was no worse than laying hidden in a ditch hoping the enemy wouldn’t notice you during the third great war. B-but…” Alfred still couldn’t get the image of empty chairs out in front of him. “Y- you do what you have to in order for the mission to succeed. I told my men to leave me behind and get the surviving civilians to safety and they did just that. I fully expected to die, but I guess I just got lucky that I was dating one of the most stubborn people ever.”

The idea was almost more terrifying than knowing many people sat or stood before him listening to him babble. His shaking worsened a bit but he swallowed the lump that was rising in his throat and forced himself to continue, “Haha u-umm… A-anyways I want to t-thank anyone- er everyone who decided to grant me this a-award and… u-umm…”

Arthur flicked his eyes to Ludwig; the sergeant tipped his chin in the slightest nod before joining Alfred on the dais. "Thank you, Alfred." The crowd broke out in applause. They shook firmly again, and with Ludwig's other hand he took him by the elbow and eased him off the dais. Arthur waited until he judged them to be an appropriate distance before stepping in and taking Alfred's arm in Ludwig's place. He squeezed Alfred's arm like he usually did to assure the man it was him. 

"That was wonderful, love." He couldn't stop smiling, his heart beaming with pride. Watching Alfred on the dais giving a speech reminded him of the cocky man in their first days meaning. Who knew that infuriating man who called him 'kid' and pushed all of his buttons would be the love if his life after 20 years? When they were alone, Arthur pulled him down for a kiss. 

"You look so handsome in your uniform." He smoothed a hand down his chest, medals cool over his palm.

“Please I probably look like a washed up old war veteran.” Alfred was quiet for a bit before adding, “Probably sounded like one too.” He turned his head away muttering, “Can’t even get a stupid speech right.” Alfred's shoulders slumped, he was still shaking quite badly but it wasn’t the worst he’d experienced since he had woken from his coma some twenty years ago. 

"You're /my/ washed-up old veteran." He kissed him. "I don't say things I don't mean. So, stick around for the after party? There's food." Arthur didn't care, either way. He bought a bottle to share at home.

“I’d rather not, I’m long overdue for an episode and I don’t feel the best right now…” Alfred leaned on Arthur a bit heavier heaving a shaky sigh. “I want to go home. Please just take me home Artie. I’m really tired.” 

"All right then."

The ride home was quiet and morose. Arthur watched the dimming scenery from the window. Alfred chose the window seat, preferring to feel the solid assurance of the bus. After arriving home and putting away their scarves and jackets, Arthur finally broke the silence. "Sorry. That was a dumb idea." He thought maybe it would rekindle a pride in Alfred of his earlier years, but it seemed to have backfired brilliantly.

“If anyone should be sorry it’s me. I sorta ruined my own party after all.” Alfred sighed from where he lay on the couch slowly calming himself down from the day’s events. He had his arm draped over his eyes as though to block out the light his eyes weren’t capable of seeing anymore. Alfred lay quietly just listening to the sounds of his breath slowly moving in and out, he could feel himself falling asleep, but he refused to succumb. “Artie?”

"Hm?" He was fixing themselves something to eat. It was late for dinner, but he had assumed they would be eating there. He rinsed the vegetables and dumped them in a pan. "What is it, love?"

“I’m not that hungry…” Alfred admitted, “Can we just relax instead?” The whiney undertone of his voice was always a tale-tale sign that Alfred wasn’t feeling well. “We can put on a fire and you can read a book to me, a fairy tale sounds nice.” Alfred's eyelids drifted closed for a moment before he forced himself awake again. “Something with a hero who fights and fights but still can’t seem to win with the world against him and a princess who struggles and struggles to make ends meet but is still a stubborn and happy person,” Alfred yawned but tried to cover it up with a stretch. “In the end the hero and princess should meet and the princess is the one who ends up saving the prince from his pit of despair. Yea, that sounds like a good story. Tell me one like that.” 

Arthur managed to scoot Alfred against the couch back and share the seat. He took Alfred's hand and smoothed the back of his knuckles with his thumb. He then kissed the back of his hand like a real princess and watched him closely. "Is it a happy ending?"

“Of course, I wouldn’t have it any other way. After all the princess is the most beautiful and stubborn person in all the land who better than him to keep the prince in line?” Alfred smiled and lazily curled his body against Arthur's. Neither paid any mind to the gentle quiver of Alfred's body rather they simply enjoyed the warmth of their bodies being pressed together.

Arthur's smile was heard through his words. "The princess saves the prince. Interesting." Arthur didn't mind playing the princess. He was saved first, after all. "I remember when we first met. I was scavenging for food and you bossed me around to board up the doors before nightfall. I thought your awful attitude soured your good looks." He petted Alfred's greying hair as the taller man curled around him like a kitten. "I was so depressed. I helplessly watched my brothers die, and I knew I probably wouldn't survive the year." He pecked Alfred's temple. "I hated your guts, but I wasn't ready to give up. So I followed you." He turned Alfred's chin for a proper kiss, long and deep. "The rest is history."

Alfred huffed a gentle laugh, “Well that’s the sparknotes version of it at least.” Alfred sighed in contentment as he gently stretched his limbs relaxing even further for the rest his body needed after such an eventful day. He yawned before turning his head to “look” up at Arthur and with a sweet smile he asked, “Do you like how the story has ended?”

Arthur looked down at Alfred with such fondness that it could never be put into words. Alfred's sightless smile made his heart ache. Although Alfred long since made peace with his condition, not a day went by that he didn't hurt for Alfred. Arthur closed his lips over that smile, feeling the shape of it as it pressed against his own smile. 

He pulled back just far enough to gaze into his eyes, past the baby blues and into his soul. 

"Ended? No, love, we're still in the middle of the story."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well this is the end of this story if you like the stories that nuclear taste and I RP then you can head over to the story titled “Love’s Vengeance” it will be the next story I will be uploading. Forewarning with that story there will be some triggers but they will be posted at the beginning of each chapter.


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